


Lonestar

by spinner33



Series: Mahina Opu [4]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 07:23:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4597950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinner33/pseuds/spinner33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve agrees to work a day on a dive site in order to get a lead on their suspect in the Julie Takimodo murder.  Danny gets to meet a couple of Steve's Navy buddies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Danny’s phone rang at 7 a.m. He groaned in pain and hoped if he ignored the phone, it would silence. McGarrett was awake in an instant. He snatched Danny’s phone off the nightstand. 

“McGarrett? What? Where? Okay. We’ll be there in thirty minutes,” McGarrett promised. He paused. “Why am I answering Danny’s phone? Because it’s ringing.” 

Steve gave a soft, maniacal chuckle, much too pleased with his own bad humor. He was way too fucking chipper for someone who had had less than three hours of sleep. 

Thirty minutes later, Steve was dragging Danny into a tiny diner. Chin and Kono were sitting in one of the back booths, faces bright with curiosity. They were already part of the way through breakfast. Catherine was on the other side of the booth, picking unhappily at her food. 

“Hope you don’t mind that we ordered for you. If you’re lucky, it’s still warm,” Chin said. 

Steve pushed Danny into the booth seat between himself and Catherine. Rollins gave them both a very cold examination before picking over her breakfast some more. 

“I’ve been calling you,” Catherine murmured. 

“Lost my phone,” Steve mumbled. He was busy shoveling in pancakes with coconut and pineapple bites, smothered in maple syrup. 

“Is anyone going to tell me why Steve was chained to the monolith in Mahina Opu Harbor last night?” Kono wondered. “They used to perform human sacrifices there. Did you know that, Boss?” 

Steve shrugged between bites. He was eating everything not nailed down on the table. Danny dodged Steve’s sharp elbow, and fought with a smile. Sex apparently made McGarrett chipper and hungry. Williams would try to remember that for future reference. 

“Steve was doing a little work after-hours. He may have scared up a lead on Julie Takimodo’s killer,” Chin replied to Kono’s question.

“Any hits from the APB this morning?” Catherine asked coolly. She was studying the clothes that Steve had pulled onto Danny’s still-wet body, and she was not a happy camper. 

Williams’ eyes had yet to uncross from the surprise orgasm Steve had gifted him with while they were in shower. One minute he was letting Steve wash his hair. Danny wasn’t moving fast enough for Steve’s liking, and McGarrett had been trying to hurry him along. Letting Steve wash his hair had led to letting McGarrett scrub him all over. During the middle of all this vigorous scrubbing, Steve went down on his knees. Danny just assumed he was being thorough. 

The next minute Danny was squeaking in surprise against the shower wall, fingers clenched through dark hair. His legs had ceased to function. His spine was curling inside out. All he could remember was Steve sucking him off, and a single, slippery digit sliding inside him, crooking forward. Then it was all shooting stars, and white lights, and the curling spine thingee. Danny passed out. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it. He was honestly concerned he might not be able to physically withstand a sexual relationship with this maelstrom of a man. 

Danny wondered if Catherine recognized the shirt he was wearing, and that’s why she had frosted over. He wasn’t even sure how he had gotten dressed, or if he was wearing pants to be honest. There was a curious breeze between his knees. No pants, he decided, gazing down. He was wearing jean shorts. Steve’s shorts, so they were too long on him. He was also wearing a pair of Steve’s flip-flops. Catherine was bristling because Danny was dressed in Steve’s things from head to toe, and wasn’t this as bloody awkward as it could get? Kono watched Danny study himself, and she tilted her head to the side. 

“What’s that say?” Kalakaua asked, lifting the edges of her own shoulders to encourage Danny to sit up straight so she could see his shirt. 

“No hits yet,” Chin answered Catherine finally. “But it’s only been three hours.”

“Were you close enough to get an actual description?” Catherine asked Steve.

“Yes, ma’am. Plenty close enough.” 

“ ‘For Excitement and Adventure, Just Add Water’?” Kono whispered, snorting as she gave Steve an inquiring stare. McGarrett flashed a tiny smile before continuing to devour all edibles within reach. He even snagged a piece of bacon off Kono’s plate.

“What does our suspect look like, Steve?” Catherine demanded. 

“White female, 5-11, black hair, green eyes, thirties, 135 pounds. Snake tattoo on her left nipple.”

“You didn’t mention the tattoo last night,” Chin sighed. “That will need to be added to the description.” 

“It slipped my mind.”

Catherine made a face and covered her left breast as if in pain. So did Kono.

“How could that possibly have slipped your mind?” Kalakaua frowned. 

“When did you see her breasts, Steve?” Catherine added.

“When she kicked me in the face, her clothing pulled sideways. I only saw the tattoo for a split second. Not like I had time to take a picture.” 

“You said she had a military issue weapon,” Chin reminded Steve. 

“An M11-A1. Sig Sauer,” McGarrett nodded. He closed his eyes and held his hands out in front of himself for a moment. It looked like meditation of a sort. Danny knew Steve was picturing the weapon in his mind. “Not a new weapon. It was in rough shape. There were scratches on the handle and the barrel. Not a name. More like runes, or hieroglyphs, or symbols. I’m not sure.”

Steve’s eyes popped open. Danny traded his full plate for Steve’s empty plate. McGarrett hummed happily and kept right on eating. 

“She frisked you,” Danny said softly. He cleared his throat, and pulled a cup of coffee to his mouth. 

“What, babe?” Steve asked, reaching over to pour sugar in his coffee for him. 

“She pushed you against the wall, and she frisked you, like a professional. Like maybe she’s had prior experience frisking people,” Danny rumbled. 

Catherine gave a quick bark of laughter. 

“A frisk is a frisk is a frisk is a frisk,” Steve shrugged. 

“No, it’s not,” Danny insisted. 

Catherine gave Steve a penetrating stare over the top of Danny’s head. 

“Do you want to elaborate about why she was frisking you, pumpkin?” 

“No,” Steve rasped back. 

“Don’t be shy. I’m sure she had her reasons.”

Steve was starting to blush, not in shy sweetness, but in terrible, bitter anger.

“That’s enough, Cath,” Steve whispered. The temperature in the room dropped even further.

“The suspect. The way she had her hands all over you? She was being very thorough,” Danny asked. 

“She found my badge. It made her angry,” Steve replied. 

“Oh.” Danny’s eyes got wide. He remembered where Steve had had his badge stashed, and he snorted softly. “That’s what you meant about she’d have to take your pants off to find out?” 

“Mm hmm,” McGarrett hummed. “I was hoping to provoke her into making a stupid move inside the club so I could arrest her there.” 

“Steve, not to be the one who rains on your parade, but have you even considered the possibility you might have sidled up to the wrong woman, and taken the wrong earring?” Catherine wondered. 

“No. I’m sure they’re the same earrings. They were very distinctive. Our suspect was wearing the same earrings that Julie Takimodo wore in every picture her husband gave us. I did not zero-in on the wrong suspect.” 

Steve was full-on glaring at the lieutenant. Danny wanted to duck. He had seen a lot of faces from McGarrett, but that one was definitely the most dangerous. 

“She wanted that earring back from you, that much is sure,” Williams interjected, not answering the question. It was cold as hell sitting between McGarrett and Rollins right at the moment. 

“By the way, you left the car running,” Catherine whispered with a hint of malevolent humor in her tone. 

Steve inhaled loudly. He whipped out of the booth, yanked Danny aside with his left arm, and took hold of Catherine with the right. Steve planted Danny abruptly back in the booth before storming out of the diner with Catherine in tow. The glass in the door rattled violently as it slammed behind them. Danny shrank down in his seat, then rose up again, eyes venturing above the back rest. 

He had never seen Steve so angry, or Catherine either one for that matter! Steve and Catherine marched across the street through honking cars, shouting at each other, fury and pain in their faces, arms flailing, hands gesticulating. Danny covered his eyes, and turned back around. He could hardly dare to face Chin and Kono across the booth. The cousins seemed to be sympathetic to his plight though. 

“All my fault,” Danny moaned. 

“Not your fault,” Chin soothed. 

“So not your fault,” Kono mused. 

“That’s been a long time coming,” Chin remarked, casually digging back into his breakfast. “I’m shutting up. It’s none of my business. But how many years to you go, using someone that way, without making a commitment? It either is or isn’t a committed relationship. And in this case, it isn’t.” 

“It’s all fun and games until someone pulls your heart out,” Kono whispered. 

“STEVEN, DON’T WALK AWAY WHEN I’M YELLING AT YOU! DON’T THINK I WON’T FOLLOW!” Rollins howled. 

“Yikes,” Chin cringed. Kono’s eyes got a bit wider. Danny leaned his elbows on the table, and wanted to melt away in his seat.


	2. Chapter 2

“So, babe. Busy?” Danny ventured into Steve’s office where McGarrett was ensconced behind his desk, tablet balanced on his hands. Mug shots were flashing over the screen. 

“Busy,” Steve intoned, making a moody face. 

“Did you and Rollins settle everything?” Danny wondered. 

Steve’s responding bark of laugh was devoid of amusement. 

“If by ‘settle’ you mean Catherine is giving me the cold shoulder, and I’m giving her the silent treatment, and we aren’t going to speak for another week or two, then, yes, we’ve settled everything.” 

“How can I help?” 

Steve centered his gaze on Danny, and mirth finally filled his face. 

“You can stop standing in my office, giving me puppy eyes. New tie?” 

Danny glanced downward. He had slipped into spare clothes he had had in his office – a pair of dress slacks and a button-down, complete with dark red tie. Steve’s mercurial eyes stopped stroking up and down Williams’ form, and went back on the tablet on his desk. His desk phone beeped. Steve ignored it, eyes focused on Danny. 

“What?” Williams whispered.

“Do flip flops really go with that suit?” 

“Commander McGarrett?” Chin called out. 

“What?!” Steve wailed back. 

“There’s a call coming through for you from the Nostromo.”

“Who is it?” McGarrett frowned. He was on his feet and into the main area in three long strides. He caressed Danny’s arm on the way past him in the doorway. 

“Patch them through,” Chin said to Kono. 

A woman in her fifties appeared on the video screen. She was Caucasian, with salt and pepper dark hair, and hazel-green eyes. She was tall, almost too bony, and tanned to a crisp. Whoever was holding the device she was using to video conference with was sitting down a couple feet away from her. The horizon behind them was rocking and rolling, waves cresting. The woman stood up to pull on a wetsuit over a black two piece, and then sat down again as she zipped the suit up tight. 

“Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett?” she asked. Her voice was stern and frank, very authoritative. 

“Ma’am?” Steve nodded.

“Dr. Ellen Ripley.”

“Good morning, Dr. Ripley. How can I help you? Where are you hailing us from?” 

“We’re hailing from the Nostromo. We do research, recovery, and salvage around the Pacific, along with our sister ships, the Sulaco and the Auriga.”

“How can I help you, Dr. Ripley?” 

“I caught the HPD APB this morning over the scanners. Thought I’d better call in. Your name was listed as the contact.”

“You recognized our fugitive suspect?” 

“I did.” Dr. Ripley paused.

“And?” Steve urged. 

“I can help you, Commander McGarrett. But you can also help me,” Dr. Ripley bargained, hazel eyes gleaming. 

“In what sense?” Steve demanded. 

“I’m down a man today. Two men, actually. One of my crew went AWOL last week, and another was injured in a minor mishap this morning.” 

“What kind of mishap?” 

“We’re anchored over the wreck site from a naval skirmish – British and American, we believe. Trying to bring up a pair of eighteenth-century twenty-four pounders. Preliminary underwater scans indicate two ships – a frigate and a whaler. The frigate’s in worse shape. Not sure yet which vessel the guns belong to. Need to get the cannons to the surface, see what we can see. Hoping for a foundry name, maybe some distinguishing marks.”

“What’s your location again?” Steve asked. His eyes were glittering with interest. 

“I’ll forward our coordinates, but you have to keep them confidential.” 

“What happened to your crewman this morning?” 

“Wierzbowski had one of the cannons in a sling, but the restraints broke. We had to fly him out to Oahu with a shattered femur.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Steve shrugged. 

“The APB said to contact 5-0 with any information pertinent to the fugitive suspect. One of my crew recognized your name. Said you were a retired SEAL. That you might come in handy for recovering these cannons.”

“Who?” Steve wondered. Dr. Ripley didn’t answer the question directly. 

“Commander McGarrett, if you fly out to our position, and give me a few hours of your time and expertise, I’ll tell you everything you want to know about your suspect,” Dr. Ripley bargained. 

“Name first,” McGarrett insisted. 

“Dive first. My way, or nothing, Commander.” 

Dr. Ripley and McGarrett measured each other sternly for a few seconds before Steve flashed his devastating smile. 

“Relax, Dr. Ripley. You had me at ‘naval skirmish’. Forward your coordinates.”

“Wilco. As I said before, our location must be kept confidential.”

“Understood.”

“Chernikoff, give him the coordinates.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“They’re coming in now,” Chin interjected. Steve ran an eye over the numbers, and nodded. 

“All set. Thanks. I’ll see you in an hour.” 

“Thank you, Commander. Nostromo out.” 

Steve’s fingers flew across the table-sized computer. His brows were bunching together. He pulled up sea charts for the area. Modern maps flashed over the screen, then earlier navigational charts bounced past at super-fast speed until one in particular came up and stopped.

“Oh, wouldn’t that be sweet?” McGarrett whispered to himself. 

“What?” Chin asked. 

“I wonder if she’s hunting the Lady Coraline.” 

“I doubt it. Adventurers and historians have been searching for that ship for over two hundred years. What makes you think she would get that lucky?”

Steve was caressing the map on the monitor. 

“Yeah. No way. It would be a total long shot,” Steve agreed. 

Once the call had disconnected, Danny could once again look at the wall monitor without wanting to barf. He had stood in the door of Steve’s office, more attuned to McGarrett’s body language than what had been going on on screen. Kono and Chin traded meaningful glances back and forth. Steve leaned his long thighs against the tall floor monitor, all business again. 

“Chin, I haven’t had any luck with mugshots. We’re going to need to track our suspect by alternate means, in case Dr. Ripley’s tips don’t get us anywhere.”

“Wait. Hold up. For those of us not steeped in eighteenth-century, British-American, Pacific naval skirmishes, do you want to share with the class?” Danny said, hands moving expressively back and forth. 

“The Lady Coraline supposedly went down in this area in 1799, all hands presumed lost. It would be a remarkable find, if that’s what the Nostromo has stumbled upon.”

“Dr. Ripley mentioned a frigate and a whaler.” 

“It’s either the Ann Frost or the Sally Sundlof, depending on which historical record you believe, the one from Whitehall, or the one from New Bedford.”

“Buried treasure?” Danny wondered. 

“No, no. The Lady Coraline was a military escort ship for two smaller, lighter vessels on a scientific expedition. The Whippet and the Tortoise. The Lady Coraline was muscle to protect the other ships,” Steve shrugged. “Danno, phone?” he requested, fingers wiggling, hands moving in agitation and excitement. 

Danny approached the floor monitor. 

“Go on. What happened to the Whippet and the Tortoise?” Danny said, offering up his cell but only for more of the tale. Steve dropped the phone on the large floor monitor and continued rambling. Was it Danny’s imagination, or was his voice rising with excitement?

“The last known coordinates of the Lady Coraline were somewhere in this general area. The Whippet and the Tortoise were lost earlier in the voyage. The Tortoise didn’t survive the turn ‘round Cape Horn. The Whippet was damaged in a severe storm. The survivors and their discoveries were brought on board the remaining vessel. It was long believed the Lady Caroline fell prey to raiders, her crew killed, and the contents of her holds scavenged. It is also possible the Lady Coraline didn’t go down at all. Perhaps she was captured, renamed, and repurposed by a foreign power. Her crew could have been pressed into service and never seen again. No one knows. There were two sailors who returned to England a decade later, claiming they had served on the Lady Caroline before being marooned and left to fend for themselves. They were quickly debunked as frauds though. There were speculative rumors that Captain Sedgewick might have survived his injuries, and that a couple of his officers and some of the crew might have made it to an island nearby the wreck site,” Steve said while loading navigational charts and other information onto Danny’s phone. 

“You sound skeptical,” Chin noted dryly. 

“Accounts sent back through packet mail from ship to ship in late 1799, early 1800, reported that Sedgewick had been mortally wounded at Tierra del Fuego. Lost his lower right leg to cannon shot. Gangrene had set into his wounds. He basically lay rotting to death in his cabin. Wasn’t expected to survive. It’s unlikely that he could have survived, given lack of proper medical attention and lack of antibiotics. His first mate was acting captain from Tierra del Fuego onward. Now the first mate was supposed to be making sail for Australia or New Zealand. But he had family in Australia, and he weren’t none too eager to see them, and that’s why he went northwest rather than westerly. Claimed he drifted off course accidently because he was fuck-all-horrible at reading the sea charts. No formal education to speak of. He was common born and Irish to boot. Had only made officer because Sedgewick had backed him all the way, promoted him from cabin boy onward – taught him everything he needed to know because he saw promise in him. The Lady Coraline limped around the Pacific for weeks, like I said. Lost most of the crew to disease and starvation. Lost the doctor, the captain of her marines, also the sailing master, and the warrant officer in skirmishes with natives on the islands where they pulled close enough to steal provisions.”

“Okay,” Danny whispered. This was more than he had expected, but he wasn’t going to stop Steve now. McGarrett was rambling happily.

“It’s possible the remainder of the crew mutinied against the first officer, put him and his own in a boat, and set them adrift. No one knows. Rumors were also bandied about that the first mate had been planted on Sedgewick’s ship by Naval Intelligence, in order to keep an eye on Sedgewick. The captain had had a brief liaison with a French baroness while she had been in British custody. He was supposed to escort her from Calais to London – they took a three-week detour through Brittany. She bore a child later, a daughter who bore a remarkable resemblance to Sedgewick.”

“Ah,” Danny grinned. 

“Ask me what her name was?” 

“The baroness, or the daughter?”

“Both.”

“I’m going to go with ‘Coraline’,” Danny replied. Steve touched the end of his own nose and pointed at Williams. 

“Good guess! Sedgewick’s loyalties were somewhat in question with Whitehall. It wouldn’t have been unthinkable for Naval Intelligence to stick an operative or two on board Sedgewick’s vessel to insure he was upholding the priorities of the Crown. I don’t believe that’s true though. Sedgewick and his first mate were close friends. Very close. Really close.” 

“Close like….?” Danny pressed. Steve gave a one-shoulder shrug, made a strange face, but did not elaborate. “You sound like you have a keen admiration of both Sedgewick and his first mate.” 

“The tales about the Lady Coraline are an interesting read. Aside from the official records in the U.K. and the U.S., there have been no less than three biographies written about the first mate, all with conflicting details.”

“Was his name McGarrett by any chance?” 

“No. His name was Roberts.”

Danny cackled happily. “Was his first name Dread Pirate?”

“No. No, it was not,” Steve sighed impatiently. 

“I hate to interrupt the history lesson, but what do you want us to do while you’re gone?” Chin asked. 

“Maybe we can scare up video footage from the club where I encountered the suspect. If Dr. Ripley’s information doesn’t pan out, I’d like a backup plan. If we can get footage of her, we could run her through the facial recognition software.” 

“Name of the club?” Kono asked. 

“Lola’s.” 

“Time frame?” 

“Between one and two.”

“Where was she in the club?” 

“All over Steve,” Danny interjected mischievously. 

“What were you wearing?” Kono asked. 

“Trust me, he’ll be easy to spot,” Danny promised, clapping both hands on Steve’s shoulders. 

“Blue shirt, black pants,” Steve replied. 

“Easy to spot?” Kono asked Danny for clarification. Williams got an elbow in the gut from McGarrett for his troubles. 

“Hurt me again. I live for pain,” Danny groaned.

“Any luck with prints from the padlock?” Steve asked Chin hopefully. 

“Of course not.” 

“Any of distinguishing characters about the padlock?” 

“Run of the mill. Sold all over the Island. Dead end.” 

“Have you found my phone yet?” 

“No. It’s been turned off.” 

“Keep on it,” Steve ordered. 

“No worries. I’ve got my phone set to scan for your phone, so when it’s turned back on, my phone will let me know.” 

“Thanks,” Steve nodded. “Coming with?” he asked of Danny. 

Williams’ playful eyes widened in mock surprise. He bounced his fingertips off his own chest. 

“Me? You mean I get the pleasure of seeing my favorite Super SEAL in his natural habitat? Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Be careful. Dr. Ripley is two men down. She might zip your sorry ass up a wetsuit too,” Steve threatened. 

“Can I have my phone back?” 

“Not yet.”

Steve was dialing as they walked out the door. 

“Pearl Harbor Central Command? Steve McGarrett. 5-0. Can you patch me through to British Naval Intelligence? I need to contact Captain Chris Makepeace, ASAP. I also need Captain Fred Hitchins. Whoever you can get first. That’s great.”


	3. Chapter 3

Danny knew this was not going to go over well. He climbed out of the helicopter with much trepidation. He rocked off balance when he put his feet down on the swaying deck. Three other people climbed out behind him. One of them put both hands on Danny’s hips, steadied his body, and then smacked him on the rump. That must have been Steve. 

“Commander McGarrett, I ought to lay your ass out cold where you stand.”

Dr. Ripley was striding across the deck, fists clenched tight, her face a mask of fury. She was not a woman Danny would have wanted to piss off. When she was standing almost nose to nose with Steve, it was impossible for Danny not to see certain similarities in their features, their stance, and their attitude. Especially their hair! If Danny didn’t already know that Doris McGarrett was Steve’s mother, he would have to have looked twice at Dr. Ripley’s DNA. 

“What part of ‘confidential’ did you not comprehend, Commander?” 

One of the other people who had climbed out of the helicopter spoke up, stepping to Steve’s side to draw the infuriated doctor’s ire. She spoke with a Scottish accent that made Danny’s belly warm for some unknown, infuriating reason. Maybe her voice reminded him a little of Rachel’s voice. 

“With all due respect, mum, your position is anything but confidential. You’ve a three-vessel, twenty-man crew of civvies and intellectuals parked less than ten miles from international waters. There’s a Russian sub twenty knots to your northwest, monitoring your every move, with reinforcements creeping in at half speed from Vladivostok. The Chinese have repositioned satellites, and they’re exchanging communications about you on a daily basis. You’ve also got an unsavory pack of Aussie scavengers waiting just past the bloody horizon. God only knows what that lot has in mind. You couldn’t be any more vulnerable out here if ye were naked on a wooden raft.” 

“Dr. Ripley, this is Captain Christina Makepeace, British Naval Intelligence,” Steve interjected. 

“I am familiar with the uniform and insignia, Commander. Thank you,” Ripley commented icily to Steve. 

“Mum, we’ve had you under surveillance for weeks ourselves,” Makepeace admitted sheepishly. “Weren’t going to make a move until we knew what you were about. Then I get a call from McGarrett here, and, well, my curiosity was piqued to say the least.” 

Ripley sighed at Makepeace, sizing up the small, blonde woman in her sharp, clean uniform. The doctor’s eyes came back to Steve’s face, fists still clenched, then zeroed in on the other person who had accompanied Danny and Steve. 

“Who the hell are you?” Dr. Ripley barked at the other man, whose blue tropical shirt and beige shorts were an absolute eyesore. 

“Captain Fred Hitchins, ma’am. My friends call me ‘Flash’. Sorry for the lack of uniform. You caught me on my day off. I was about to hit the range when McGarrett called. American Naval Intelligence, out of Pearl Harbor.”

“Christ, McGarrett. Is there anyone you didn’t tell?” Ripley coughed up a dark laugh. 

“You asked for my help,” Steve shrugged. 

“This is not what I had in mind, Commander.” 

“What’s not to like?” Steve worked the McGarrett Charm about as hard as Danny had ever seen him have to work it. 

“Dr. Ripley, the U.S. Navy can secure a safe perimeter around your vessels in less than two hours. Bring you all the personnel and equipment you need. The best of the best. You can have your pick of my men, all able and eager,” Hitchins replied. 

“In return, the U.S. Government and the British Crown lay claim to my find, if it is the Lady Coraline and the Ann Frost?” Dr. Ripley questioned. 

“You ARE hunting the Lady Coraline!” Steve exclaimed. He had made an ever-so-tiny leap along with those words. 

“Down, boy,” Danny mused, tugging on Steve’s back. 

“I knew it was a bad idea to contact you,” Ripley muttered. 

“No, ma’am. No,” Steve insisted. “You absolutely did the right thing. No one is interested in poaching your prize. You will remain in command of the mission. We’re only here in a support role. Whatever you salvage is yours, though we would encourage any findings of historical significance be shared, for educational purposes. We’re here to offer protection and personnel. We’re at your beck and call.” 

“I want that promise in writing,” Ripley growled. 

“You can have it in blood if need be. Will you put away your cat o’ nine tails already?” 

Ripley’s temper was caving. She shook her head, and stared the 5-O boss hard up and down, very much like a disapproving mother might do. 

“Get your ass into a wetsuit, McGarrett, before I come to my senses,” Ripley snapped, motioning Steve past herself to the group of people who were gathering on deck some fifteen yards away. They were a rag-tag, ratty-looking bunch, hanging on the doctor’s every word though. 

“Do we have a deal then?” Hitchins asked hopefully. 

“We have a deal,” Ripley confirmed to Hitchins. 

“I’ll get on the horn,” Hitchins said, tentatively shaking Ripley’s hand before bolting back to the helicopter. 

“At your service, mum. Can you use a spare diver? I’m only too happy to help,” Makepeace asked, waiting anxiously. 

“I thought you were Naval Intelligence.”

“I was diving with my dad from before I started school. He’s based out of Perth – environmental research for the University. Part-time diving enthusiast. Somewhat keen on naval history himself. He passed that gene on to me.” 

“You have a long history of seafarers in your family?”

“Seafarers, wreckers, buchaneers, and a couple of pirates too,” Makepeace grinned wickedly. 

“Knock yourself out, sister.” 

Makepeace gave Ripley a quick salute and hurried to where Steve was shedding clothes and shoes. Makepeace was shucking her clothes as well, chattering happily. Danny blushed as he watched. Steve was buck naked, pulling on a wet suit over his bare skin. No one in the Nostrum’s crew paid him much attention, beyond the fact he was a welcome addition, with the exception of one young woman with dirty brown hair and a button nose. She came to a complete stand-still and gaped openly at Steve. Makepeace was less than two steps away from McGarrett, grinning like a fool, pulling on her own gear. They were racing to see who could get their gear on first. 

“Bloody hell, McGarrett. I can’t believe you had the nerve to ring me up.” 

“I knew you’d jump at a chance if this was a search for the Lady Coraline. Lucky you were close by, hm?”

“I might have to take back all the nasty things I ever said about you, Steven.” 

“You’re welcome.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten about Barcelona, mind you.” 

“Oh no. That bright, shiny FUBAR is all on your boys, not mine.”

“My arse. If your Yanks hadn’t been so skittish about accepting intel from a woman, there would’na been an issue.” 

“It wasn’t your gender, Makepeace. It was your ‘I’m Ne’er Wrong’ attitude. Glad to see you’ve worked on that.” 

“Bloody fucking arrogant, as per usual. Hey, McGarrett, anyone told you lately how good your ass looks in skin-tight wetsuit?” Makepeace grinned.

“Not nearly often enough,” Steve replied with a charming chuckle. 

Dr. Ripley watched Danny watching the exchange between Steve and Chris. 

“And you are?” Ripley asked, narrowing her eyes, pinching her brows together.

“Hi. Detective Sergeant Danny Williams. 5-0,” Danny said as he offered Ripley his hand. 

“Why are you here, Detective?” she asked as she shook his limb soundly. 

“I’m with him,” Danny whispered, mouth dry, heart pounding. McGarrett’s sixth sense radar went off. He knew they were talking about him. 

“Danno’s with me. He’s my partner,” Steve called back over one shoulder. He turned and strode back to where Ripley was grilling Danny. 

“Can he dive?” Ripley asked McGarrett while giving Williams a very penetrating once-over with her cold eyes. 

“He’s better on land than in the water,” McGarrett admitted. 

“Is there anything else I can do?” Danny hoped. 

“I don’t know, Detective. Is there anything else you can do?” Ripley wondered. 

Steve stifled a smile. He lifted a leg and strapped on a thigh holster with a dagger, then zipped up his suit from navel to collar bone. Danny was mesmerized. McGarrett seemed taller and thinner, more dangerous than usual in that wetsuit. Williams had to agree with Makepeace’s assessment of Steve’s assets. One of the crew pushed an air tank up Steve’s shoulders, reached around to buckle and strap him in. 

“Danny is a real talker. Handy with a gun. Mean right hook. Sucks at surveillance. Terrible driver. Intuitive detective. Wonderful father. Snores when he’s over-tired. Whines like a prima donna when he’s really in a mood. He’ll be no end of help,” McGarrett promised before disappearing again. He breezed past the hypnotized young woman. She had yet to blink. Makepeace trailed in Steve’s wake, barely able to keep up. 

“Hey, Longshanks, what’s your bloody hurry?”

“I’ve got a case to get back to,” Steve replied. 

“Oh, that’s right! Mr. Major Crimes Task Force. I heard about that. You getting all cuddly and such with the Governor. How is the civilian life agreeing with you?” 

“It’s got its benefits,” Steve answered, giving one last long glance at Danny before disappearing down the side of the ship into a smaller vessel that was being lowered into the water. 

“Rebecca?!” Ripley called out. The young woman who had been hypnotized by McGarrett snapped to attention and raced to Ripley’s side. 

“Yes, ma’am?” 

“He’s all yours. Put him to work.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Danny,” Williams offered. 

“Rebecca,” the young woman answered, coming over to shake his hand.  


	4. Chapter 4

“Commander McGarrett isn’t married then?” Rebecca asked softly. 

Danny’s eyes drifted away from the screens he was covering. He had a sinking feeling about this girl. Each crew member on the dive was wearing an underwater camera and a device which monitored their heart rate, breathing rate, and oxygen levels. Danny and Rebecca had been tasked with making sure everyone could stay down safely. Except that Rebecca wasn’t paying the slightest attention to her monitors. She was busy grilling Danny about Steve. 

Danny gave Rebecca a small shrug, and put his eyes back on Steve’s camera. Williams had a close-up view of the rest of the dive team, and a cannon in a sling, being brought up. The piece of historic artillery was covered in crust and dirt and rocky dead creatures. The first piece was already on the surface, being tended to on the topside of the Nostromo. 

“Not married,” Danny confirmed. 

“Oh, good,” Rebecca hummed. 

She glanced across her screens with little enthusiasm. Danny had the Nostromo’s dive crew, and she had the smaller ships of the Sulaco and the Auriga. Danny wasn’t sure if Rebecca was a medical professional, or if she had been pressed into the task because no one else was available. It was a very limited crew. On the table below the monitors and displays, several books on maritime history were riding the rocking and the rolling of the ship. Also on top of the pile of books was a pad with notations about military artillery specs. In her lap rested a romance novel with distressed maiden and a pirate on the cover. She was a Jane-of-all-Trades on the Nostromo, but her heart and mind were obviously elsewhere. 

For a few blessed minutes, Rebecca read her novel, glanced at the monitors, and left Danny alone. He almost dozed off more than once. The late night was catching up with him. He was sore and tired. But it was worth it. Memories of Steve in his arms, the taste of his skin, the taut muscles of his body, the way he had groaned and pleaded and screamed. This morning, in the shower, whatever the hell Steve had been doing to him. That seemed a world away from the here and now. But a world Danny wanted to find his way back to as soon as possible. 

Rebecca broke the silence with a rush of words. 

“What’s he like, really? How long have you worked together? I heard Captain Makepeace mention the Major Crimes Task Force. I can’t imagine what that must be like. It could not be more boring, being stuck out here in the middle of nowhere. If it weren’t for Mom needing my help, I’d be back in college in New England, taking in a few Bruins games, enjoying myself for a change.” 

“Bruins?” Danny frowned. “How dare you mention those second-rate losers in my presence? No one, and I mean no one, compares to Martin Brodeur.” 

“Oh, please! I’d take Rask over Brodeur any day of the week, Jersey,” she smiled a little, rising to the comment but not taking offense. 

“Steve is Steve. What can I say?” Danny continued. “No one else compares to him either.” 

And wasn’t that the frigging truth in a nutshell? 

“You know him pretty well?” Rebecca wondered. 

“Pretty well,” Danny nodded. He remembered Steve leaning back in bed, hand cuffed to the headboard, crooked grin on his face. “Pretty well,” he repeated more softly. 

“I can’t believe he doesn’t have someone special in his life,” Rebecca commented. 

Danny wished he had a straight answer to give her. He didn’t want to make any assumptions about how last night might have changed his relationship with his partner. He also wasn’t sure about the situation with Catherine either. He wished honesty wasn’t going to break hearts all around. 

A shadowy figure from the doorway reached in and slapped a hand on both of Rebecca’s shoulders, giving her a friendly shake. 

“Simmer down there, Newt. Take it easy. You only just met the man.”

Danny and Rebecca both leapt out of their skins in surprise. The tall, blond man had a body mass so big he could hardly squeeze into the room. Shoulders as broad as a tree. Jaw as square and tight as a block of cement. Long legs almost too big for his frame. A pair of Nordic blue eyes as cold as Iceland. A smile so cynical and sharp you could cut yourself on it. He spoke with a thick Texas accent which only ramped up his sex appeal by like ten thousand percent. 

“Unless he has had the mother of all metaphysical, romantic epiphanies, Commander McGarrett is not the settle-down and get-married sort you’re looking for, Newt,” the tall man said as he burrowed between Danny and Rebecca, and ran a skilled eye over the monitors. He was wearing an unzipped wetsuit pulled down to his waist, and was adjusting a cowboy hat so he could get a better look at the screens. 

“How would you know what he’s like?” Rebecca barked back. “And stop calling me ‘Newt’!”

“We served together in the Middle East and around the world. Survived several harrowing sorties together, and those were just the beer runs between the secret ops missions. Believe me when I tell you, Steve does not get emotionally attached to anyone. He is without a doubt the best commander I ever served under. He’s knows his shit. But he does not let himself get attached. It doesn’t happen in our line of work. People get injured, or killed, and they all eventually leave. You cannot afford the liberty of getting too close to anyone. So, Newt, if you’re looking for the ring, the kids, and the house with a picket fence, you are eyeballing the wrong sailor. All I’m doing is saving you a lot of unnecessary heartache. You’re welcome.”

“Don’t you have a dive team to supervise, Bailey?” Rebecca fumed as she shot to her feet and hurried from the small room. The stranger with the Texas accent sat down, and extended a hand to Danny.

“Ben Bailey. My friends call me ‘Lonestar’.”

“Pleasure,” Danny lied. He wouldn’t admit to an immediate dislike, maybe only an uneasy feeling about the man. He didn’t like hearing Steve’s so-called friends or associates discussing him with such frankness. Even if some of that were entirely true. 

“Ripley said you’re McGarrett’s partner?” Bailey experimented with the words, rolling them around in his mouth like they tasted bad to him. 

“Yes, we’re partners.”

“How long have you known him?”

“About four years.” 

“Then you should have backed me up with Rebecca. It ain’t right letting her get her hopes up when you know she’s only gonna get herself hurt.” 

Danny shrugged quietly. He and Bailey silently monitored the screens for all of two minutes before Lonestar’s blue eyes were measuring Danny up and down. 

“Partner, huh?”

“Partner,” Danny confirmed again. 

“Hmm,” Lonestar mused. He slid on a headset and tapped a few buttons on the console.

“Hey, Smooth Dog, your oxygen level is running down. Why don’t you bring your ass up here for a new tank, so I can give you a proper hello?” 

Danny watched Steve’s camera jerk with surprise. The cannon wobbled, and the other divers around Steve helped steady it. McGarrett’s heartrate had shot up! Steve’s camera (and presumably his head) turned towards the array on the Nostromo’s underbelly, and towards the water’s surface. Although the divers could hear the on-board personnel, they could not reply. Steve responded to the command by pulling a small board to his front in full display of the camera, and scrawling a symbol in the middle of it: a single, five-pointed star surrounded by a circle. Steve’s scribble matched the blue and white and gold tattoo on the massive right shoulder of the man sitting next to Danny. Bailey rubbed the mark unconsciously, drawing Danny’s attention to the fact the star tattoo had been crafted over a terrible burn scar. Bailey chuckled into the mic.

“Yeah, that’s right. It’s me. Get on up here. I haven’t seen you for ages. I’ve missed you. Besides, Ripley is almost done putting together a dossier on your suspect. She wants to send you back to the island before nightfall, for your own safety. I’ll meet you topside.” 

Danny abandoned the monitors to follow Lonestar out of the small room. He didn’t know why he felt he had to be there when Steve surfaced, only that it was a sudden and desperate need. Rebecca slipped back into the room, her face dark with annoyance. 

When Danny reached the deck of the ship, only a couple steps behind Bailey, Steve was coming up over the side. He was dripping everywhere, and grinning like a fool. Danny couldn’t help but stare at the way the wetsuit had almost melding with Steve’s skin, indistinguishable. Lonestar snagged McGarrett into his arms, and lifted him right up off the ground in a violent, possessive hug that left bruises. The Texan was only a couple inches taller than Steve, but he had at least twenty pounds of muscle over him. He lifted Steve like McGarrett was a young boy, patting him soundly on the back. 

“Lonestar?!”

“Who kicked you in the face, Doggie?” Bailey asked, lifting Steve’s chin. 

“Our suspect.”

“Size 8, Etienne Aigner pumps, right foot, toe down, heel up. Roundhouse kick? Pressure exerted would have carried most of her body weight. Was she trying to knock you unconscious on purpose? You must’ve been on your knees at the time for her to get that kind of height on you. Son, what did you do to offend this woman?” 

“I stole her earring.” 

“You always have had a way with the ladies. Dr. Ripley is waiting for you. Right this way.”

Bailey dragged Steve along bodily. McGarrett caught Danny’s eye, and snatched his arm. 

“Have you met…” Steve started to ask. Bailey cut him off with a derisive glance at Williams. 

“Your plucky sidekick? We’ve met. He’s adorable.”

“Adorable?” Danny echoed, striding along behind the two. 

“What’s the hurry?” Steve wondered, allowing Bailey to push him below deck. McGarrett had managed to grab his clothes while being ushered along. 

The Texan pushed McGarrett backwards into a niche, allowing a couple other crew members to gambol past. He waited until they were out of earshot before he spoke in hushed tones. 

“I’m glad you’re here, and I’m sorry you’re here.” 

“What’s the matter?” Steve whispered back. McGarrett unzipped the wetsuit and wriggled out of it, all the way, right there. Danny blushed, and glanced down the corridor to keep himself from staring too long. 

“Steven,” Danny chided. 

“Sorry, Danno.”

Steve turned sideways somewhat. Lonestar carried on like it was nothing that a grown man was standing there naked in the corridor. Bailey stared with unmasked interest which raised Danny’s hackles. McGarrett had zero modesty, and Danny supposed if he had a long, lean, muscled body like that, he might have less modesty too. Steve shimmied into his briefs, his cargo pants, his teeshirt, in all of fifteen seconds. 

“Did she bite you on the thigh before or after she kicked you in the face?” Bailey wondered, reaching long fingers teasingly into the crook of Steve’s thigh. 

“What?” Steve asked, quickly pushing those fingers away. “She isn’t the one who bit me.” 

“Ah,” Bailey commented. 

“What did you want to tell me?” Steve asked, changing the subject in a big-ass hurry when Bailey’s derisive gaze went straight to Danny. Those Nordic blue eyes went very icy indeed. 

“There’s some strange shit going on around the Nostromo. That’s what,” Lonestar answered, giving Steve his attention again. 

“You wanna talk about it before or after I see Ripley?” 

“After Ripley. Whatever you do, don’t let the doctor talk you into a permanent gig on this ship, all right?”

“All right,” Steve whispered back to Lonestar.

“There’s shit that’s been going. Deep shit. Creepy shit. Equipment malfunctions. Unexplained echoes on the CCTVs. Air tanks running out too fast. Eerie noises. Brand-new restraints snapping in two. Stuff disappearing. Moving around. We had a guy go AWOL about a week ago after a bad night on watch. Spunkmeyer wouldn’t tell any of us what he saw, but he ain’t been back. And he’s not the first to go. Something going on. Something bad. Shit I don’t want you getting mixed up in. Do you understand, Steve?” 

“Sure,” McGarrett nodded. 

“Good,” Bailey approved. “I’ll tell you more in a few.” 

Bailey hustled McGarrett down the hallway towards what would have been the captain’s cabin, but which served as the private office of Dr. Ripley. Danny tagged along behind. Ripley was seated at her desk, tossing pages back and forth before tucking them into a binder. She stood up, and handed the heavy notebook to McGarrett. 

“Commander, I generally request that divers clean up and take a shower before coming in here.”

“Sorry,” Steve said, staring at the chair behind him but not sitting down. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. Bailey pulled his wetsuit up over his shoulders, and zipped it, taking off his cowboy hat, shaking out his hair. 

“That’s your suspect, Commander. I know you’ve got work to do, so we won’t keep you any longer. Thank you again for your time.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank Flash’s crew,” Steve deflected the compliment.

“They do come in handy, young men of that sort. I’m curious. Why do they call Captain Hutchins ‘Flash’?” Ripley wondered. McGarrett and Bailey both laughed at once. 

“He had an unfortunate wardrobe malfunction on a practice jump one time,” Steve answered. 

“A memorable, unfortunate wardrobe malfunction,” Lonestar corrected slyly. 

“Mm, I see,” Ripley nodded. “Care to elaborate?” 

“He somehow got his ripcord tangled with his jumpsuit, and, well….um….” Steve was trying to keep a straight face and failing miserably.

“Flash depants hisself mid-flight. Bare butt shining in the moonlight, all the way down,” Lonestar finished. “I think Crusher uploaded that to YouTube, didn’t he?” 

“Hope not,” Steve sighed, his chuckles subsiding. “You wanna give me the Cliff Notes version?” Steve requested as Bailey stole the chair behind Steve and grabbed his hips to move him slightly aside. Danny took a seat in the other chair, feeling as invisible as usual. He was always invisible to everyone except Steve, who made damned sure to gauge Williams’ non-verbal responses to what Ripley was saying. 

“Her name is Monica Pelletier. Sometimes. She was part of my crew four years ago. Came on board claiming to be a gemologist and jewelry expert,” Ripley explained.

“Wasn’t she?” 

“She knew her stuff, but not for the reason you might expect. We were working a different dive site then. A straight-forward job. Nothing special. A Spanish vessel that went down some hundred miles from here. We were there for the artillery. Found a small hoard of gems hidden in one of the barrels. We brought Pelletier on at the behest of my late husband.”

“What happened?” 

“She was supposed to clean and catalogue any jewelry that we recovered. What we didn’t realize was that she was only here to scope out what we brought up. She was helping herself to what she wanted.”

“No one noticed items were missing?” 

“She replaced them with high-quality reproductions during the cleaning and cataloguing process. We didn’t realize until we took the lot for an insurance appraisal that some of the pieces had been lifted. Also I was distracted with my husband’s sudden death.”

“Was she connected with his death?” 

“I don’t think so,” Ripley mused. 

“How did your husband die?” 

“In bed with his mistress.”

“Homicide?” 

“Divine disapproval. Heart attack.” 

“My sympathies,” Steve offered carefully. 

Ripley shrugged and made a face. “It is what it is.” 

“How much did Pelletier get away with?” Steve asked. 

“A cool five million at least in gems and jewelry.”

“Did she try to sell any of it?” 

“No. That’s the curious part.”

“She kept it all?”

“As far as we can tell. I’ve had colleagues monitoring auctions and private sales. She frequents those under one name or another, sometimes as an anonymous buyer as well. None of the jewelry from that dive has been seen since.” 

“She’s like a magpie collecting shiny objects,” Bailey interjected quietly from behind Steve. 

“What else can you tell me about her?” McGarrett wondered. He paced back and forth between Danny’s chair and Bailey’s chair. 

“Only what I saw with my own eyes,” Ripley replied cryptically. 

“Care to elaborate?” 

“She’s not your average con artist/gemologist.” 

Ripley and Lonestar exchanged a shrug. 

“Should I tell him about the fight on Molokai?” Bailey murmured. 

“By all means,” Ripley nodded. 

Lonestar continued. “Pelletier is no shrinking violet. Guy in a bar got fresh with her. Before any of the rest of us could politely tell the dude to move along, she whipped out a gun, and dropped his ass with one through the shoulder. Quick as you please. Snapped his collar bone on his dominant side. Incapacitated the man in under three seconds. His buddies took offense, tried to grab her. She stowed the gun, drop-kicked one asshole through the wall, and had the other one whimpering in a death grip before you could blink. She plays for keeps.”

“Is she former military?” Steve wondered. 

“Well, Doggie, you don’t learn that kind of shit in the Girl Scouts,” Lonestar smirked. ‘Shit’ seemed to be the man’s favorite word, Danny mused to himself. He could say it seven different ways, and each pronunciation meant an entirely different thing. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have her fingerprints on file?” Steve hoped. 

“No. Sorry,” Ripley frowned. 

“You don’t run a background check on your crew members before you hire them?” Steve questioned. Ripley coughed up a rough laugh.

“I don’t have the luxury. I’m working with limited resources and a shrinking time frame. I take who I can get, and hope to hell it works out.” 

“You should let me run your crew through our system,” McGarrett offered. “Including this guy,” he pointed to Bailey with a laugh. Lonestar did not take offense. He nodded in agreement. 

“Yes, indeed, ma’am, you should,” Bailey said in all seriousness to the doctor. 

“No thanks, Commander. I trust my judgment more than I trust a law enforcement dossier. They don’t always tell the whole story.”

“Suit yourself.” 

“Thanks again for your help. Bailey will see you out.” 

“Thanks for the file,” Steve nodded. 

“Commander, if you’re ever bored and lonely on a weekend, you’re welcome to return any time,” Ripley called. “I sure could use someone with your skill set.” 

“I’ll think about it,” Steve replied on the way out the door. 

“Be careful, McGarrett. The most dangerous place you could possibly be is between her and something she wants,” Ripley cautioned. 

Danny assumed that they would be pulled into another discussion with Bailey before they reached the deck and daylight once more. Lonestar led the way through twists and turns, not the same way they came down, through a different set of metal doors, small metal staircases, down long, winding, intersecting corridors. Bailey and McGarrett were exchanging whispers back and forth. Steve was making a disconcerted face. Danny could not hear most of what they were saying, but he could tell that McGarrett was taking note of whatever Bailey was going on about. 

Bailey scooped up Steve’s boots off the deck once they reached topside. Danny climbed into the waiting Navy bird, strapped himself in. Steve sat against the floor, pulling on one boot. Bailey grabbed Steve’s knee, lifted his other foot, shoved on his other boot, and tied it for him. Let his hand linger under Steve’s knee, pulling him forward for another quick word. 

“You be careful now, Doggie, you hear?” 

“Will do. You the same.”

“Don’t be a stranger.” 

“Come by next time you’re ashore. We’ll have some beer. Get all nostalgic and weepy,” McGarrett offered. 

“Fuck that. We’ll get drunk and naked, and have a real party," Bailey laughed loudly. He slapped Steve on the thigh, and backed away from the helicopter. Steve remained sitting on the deck, although he did clasp a hand around Danny’s foot. Their last sight of the Nostromo, Sulaco, and Auriga was in the falling twilight. Danny shivered in premonition, and longed to put some distance between himself and these vessels.  
 


	5. Chapter 5

McGarrett and Williams headed back through the office doors in the late evening. The place was dark and quiet as death. Steve dropped his duffel right inside his office door, and then booted up the large, free-standing computer on the floor in the outer room.

“You’re not headed home?” Danny wondered, walking into his office, flipping on the light, flipping off the light, and backing out again. 

“Wanna see what I can find out about Pelletier,” Steve shrugged. 

“It’s been long day, after a short night. Don’t you think maybe you might need a little down time? Just this once?” 

“Nah,” Steve sighed. 

Danny’s eyes wandered the empty area—Catherine’s desk had paperwork on it which had been shuffled around. Rollins must have been in while Danny and Steve were on the Nostromo. Steve’s tablet on his desk was blinking as though he had forgotten to power it down before they left. Chin’s office was super tidy. The padlock rested on his desk in an evidence bag. Kono’s office had video discs all over the desk, and hard-copy snapshots of McGarrett dancing with the suspect. Danny’s mind went to the emails that Kono had sent both Danny and Steve, pix and video of their kiss at the bar the other night. He smirked to himself. He hadn’t erased them simply because they had been such a turn-on. 

“Are we going to talk about last night?” Danny wondered, coming over to the floor monitor and standing near Steve. 

McGarrett paused. Looked up. Blushed. Tried out a nervous smile. 

“Can we not?” he pleaded softly. 

That didn’t bode well. Danny had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Steve dropped his head again, giving a tiny sigh. He was typing in the names of the Nostromo’s combined crew, both nicknames and full names if he knew them. Had that been what Bailey and he had been discussing on the walk back through the ship to the deck? 

“Did it happen or didn’t it?” Danny shrugged. He wasn’t going to pretend he wasn’t hurt by the quick rebuff, but he wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet.   
McGarrett avoided Williams’ penetrating stare, looking up at Danny helplessly through those long lashes. 

“Danno, I’ve already been dumped once today. Don’t think I’m ready to going ‘oh fer two’, if that’s all right by you,” Steve murmured quietly. “We don’t ever have to talk about it again, if that’s what you want. I’ve had a few of those.” 

Danny cleared his throat and steeled himself for the long haul. There was a lonesome sadness to Steve’s tone that caught him by surprise. 

“We could talk about you and your buddy Lonestar,” Danny said the man’s name with the appropriate amount of twang to annoy Steve to no end. 

“Ben can be overwhelming at first. Once you’ve known him a while, you get underneath his armor, and you realize he isn’t the massive dickhead he wants you to think he is.”

“The last place I want to be is under his armor,” Danny pouted. Steve noted, and bit back a smile. “He was very ‘hands-all-over’ with you in a way I did not like.”

“That’s who Ben is. He doesn’t mean anything by it.” 

“He wants to get you drunk, get you naked, and ‘party’. That’s a very distinct list of directives, Steven.” 

“He was talking shit to get a rise out of you. He didn’t mean anything by it,” Steve disagreed. 

“You’re assuming all I wanted was once with you?” Danny wondered, steering Steve back to the topic of last night. 

“You’re straight, but you were curious. I can respect that. I figured once would be enough to satisfy your curiosity. It was very nice. I enjoyed myself. You did too. But maybe the best thing to do is leave it at that,” Steve added, giving a one-shoulder shrug, dropping his head further. 

“We are so not going to leave it at that,” Danny laughed. He reached out and touched Steve’s arm. “I had something else in mind entirely,” he admitted, letting his hand slid from McGarrett’s arm to his waist. 

“Really?” Steve sounded hopefully, but he didn’t believe what he was hearing, and that broke Danny’s heart. 

“You’re surprised?” Danny flinched. 

“I thought it was a one-time thing for you. That’s what I tried to tell Cath, but she wouldn’t listen to me.” 

“Don’t you hate that in a person? Someone who won’t listen to you,” Danny smirked. “Steve, look at me. I am not a one-time thing kinda guy. That is not something I do. You know me better than that, don’t you?” 

“Uh huh,” Steve stammered and nodded. 

“Is that what you and Cath have?”

“No.” 

“Is that what you and Lonestar had?” 

“That was a long time ago.” 

“What do you have with Catherine then? It’s different than that?” Danny wondered. He was glad Steve hadn’t lied or diverted the question about his past with Lonestar. “What is it that you have with Rollins?” 

“We have a thing. An arrangement. We help each other out. No questions asked. Whatever the other person needs. Even now, I mean, she’s so mad at me, and I’m just as pissed at her, but if she walked in that door, and asked me to help her out, I’d say yes. No matter what it is she wanted. That’s what friends do for each other.” 

A tendril of dread wrapped around Danny’s throat and choked away his words. McGarrett wasn’t lying when he said Catherine was not his girlfriend. She honestly wasn’t. How many years had this been going on? 

“She needs something, she calls you? You need something, you call her? That’s what it is you have?” 

“Yeah.” 

“All those times you went to her for information, what did she get from you in return?” Danny wondered. 

“Dinner?” Steve cleared his throat. His brows arched. He clearly hoped he wouldn’t have to spell it out. 

“Were you giving her sex in exchange for information?” 

“Um.” 

“You’ve been ‘putting out’ to get her help?” Danny chortled. 

“Kinda sorta,” Steve reluctantly admitted. "You make it sound dirty." 

Danny didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Or punch Steve in the face. 

“You’re like a big, defenseless baby sometimes, aren’t you?” Danny sighed at him impatiently. “You can’t tell me you don’t love her, and that she doesn’t love you,” Williams continued. 

“Yeah, sure, we love each other, but…. She loves me, but she’s not in love with me. I had a couple of those too.”

“Rollins told you that? Is that what you’re thinking she’s thinking, or did she actually tell you that she’s not in love with you?” Danny wondered. There was a terrible vulnerability that was rising to the surface in Steve’s aura, and his anger was stirring to life as well. McGarrett wasn’t good with dealing with his emotions. This talk was making him very uncomfortable. Feeling vulnerable made him angry. He wouldn’t even look at Danny, kept his eyes glued to the monitor under his fingertips. Williams understood that the worst thing he could possibly do was draw attention to his friend’s stunted emotional immaturity. He would have to proceed very carefully. 

“We’ve had this talk a couple times. Cath is not in love with me. I’m not… I’m …. Um… can we talk about something else?” 

“Like what?” Danny shrugged. “Just because Catherine is using you for sex, that doesn’t mean no one else could possibly want more of an emotional bond with you. Along with the sex.” 

“I just assumed….”

“Do you think so little of me, or so little of yourself?” Danny worried. 

Steve didn’t answer. He wouldn’t look up. He kept typing away, but his fingers were bouncing harder and harder off the surface. He was getting well and truly pissed. Danny wanted to reach over and stop Steve’s fingers, hold him still, get him to react. But he dreaded the idea that Steve would tune him out and burrow down inside himself even further, or lose his temper and start shouting and breaking things. 

“Instead of walking away and hiding from our feelings, why don’t we play this by ear? Let it be what it’s meant to be or not,” Danny offered, rubbing a hand up Steve’s back. 

“I’m not sure it’s such a good idea. It was nice, but we both know it’ll complicate our working lives. I can’t imagine if we….if we……our….. we should…” 

“You gonna tell me that hulking blond on the Nostromo knows you better than I do? I doubt that very seriously.” 

“What did Lonestar say?” 

“Never mind what he said. I know you better. I think better of you than that.” 

“What did he tell you?”

“He said that in your line of work, it’s difficult to form human attachments, because everyone in your life leaves you, one way or another.” 

Steve nodded. 

“Is he saying that because it’s true, or because you weren’t emotionally attached to him, and he took it kinda hard?” 

“I don’t know.”

“I disagree with his assessment. I think you do get attached, but you can’t let yourself admit it. I think you get attached pretty easily, pretty hard. Part of you wants to have those attachments, but the other part of you puts up a wall, and shuts down whatever you’re feeling, because you don’t want to get hurt again. Which tells me someone has hurt you before, and more than once. I would frankly start with all the mind-fuckery your sadistic mother pulls on you, and work the list from there.”

“Dr. Freud, I don’t need this right now,” Steve murmured coolly.

“That’s okay. It’s all right to be scared. We’ve all got our walls that we hide behind. We’ve all got our reasons for shutting down. I do understand. But don’t you ever sell yourself short, Steven.”

“I don’t,” McGarrett lied. 

“This, this whatever it is between you and me, it is not going to be a one-off thing. It will not be a ‘sex with my BFF when I’m lonely’ relationship. You want more than that. I want more than that. You mean more than that to me. You always have, and you always will. No matter how mad I get with you, no matter how much we fight, always know that I love you, and I care about you. Do I make myself clear?” 

“Yes.” 

“You deserve to be treated like a human being, not a handsome piece of beefcake.” 

“I don’t mind so much,” Steve whispered. 

“You big dopey moron. ‘Don’t get attached’? I’m already fucking attached, and so are you, or hadn’t you noticed? I’m beyond attached to you, because you need someone to look after you. I’m scared of you. I’m scared for you. I wanna protect you, mostly from yourself. Am I getting through to you?”

Steve shrugged one shoulder. His head could not bow any lower. 

“It’s perfectly okay to get attached to the people you work with, and to the people you have sex with, and especially to the people you work with and have sex with,” Danny whispered, rubbing Steve’s shoulders as he stood behind him. “It’s normal. It’s human. It’s to be expected.” He wanted to nibble the nape of Steve’s neck, but got a spot in the middle of his back instead. 

Steve was frowning as he glanced over one shoulder. 

“What are you doing back there?” 

“Must you be so tall?” Danny smirked. “If I weren’t so tired, I’d pick you up, drag you to your office, and put that big desk to good use for once. Show you how much I care about you in a very physical way.” 

“If I weren’t so tired, I’d take you up on that.” 

The computer started beeping. Steve frowned at the display. Danny could tell by the seriousness in McGarrett’s eyes that he was down behind his walls again. Williams let it slide for now. ‘Baby steps’ he thought to himself. They would continue this conversation later. 

“What’s up?” Danny asked. 

“Well for starters, there isn’t a single person in Ripley’s combined crew who doesn’t have a record.” 

“I may die of shock,” Danny laughed. “Including your buddy Lonestar?” 

“He’s had a couple DUIs since he got back. One drunk and disorderly. He’s seeing a court-appointed psychiatrist to deal with PTSD issues. Not surprised. He had a couple incidents. I’m the one who encouraged him to retire from the SEALs, for his own good.”

“What kind of incidents?” Danny worried. 

“I found him one night in the bathroom stall with his gun in his mouth, after one of our ops went all to hell.”

“Shit…” Danny whistled. “Oh God. I’m starting to sound like him. What happened, or can’t you tell me?” 

“We were sent in to take out a target, and we had to go through civilians to complete our mission. No one on the team took it well. But Lonestar took it hardest of all.” 

“Through civilians?” Danny paled. 

“Our target surrounded himself with suicide bombers, all of whom were kids. A couple of them were his own sons.” 

“That’s just sick,” Danny whispered in horror. 

“We got our target, but one of the kids was killed as well. It was Lonestar’s shot that killed the boy. He’s got kids himself. I managed to talk Bailey down that night, got him some help on the side so it wouldn’t go on his record, got him shipped state-side for some R and R. I pulled a lot of strings to get him some rest, get him home to see his family. Traded in my own leave for his sake.”

“How did you talk him down?” Danny asked. Steve stammered, cleared his throat, but didn’t answer. “You distracted him with sex?” Danny guessed. 

“Sort of inadvertently.” 

“Steven,” Danny frowned. 

“It worked, didn’t it?” McGarrett retorted. 

“No wonder the guy’s got such fucked-up feelings about you. He was having a terrifying, emotional crisis. He latched onto you. You broke his heart.”

“I did not! Danno, there’s only so much you can put into words. Physical contact, human contact, it heals faster, it touches deeper. It goes into those dark places in your mind where words fail.”

“You’re making sense, and that’s probably the first sign I’m losing my mind,” Danny admitted. 

“We’ve had those cases too where all you want to do when it’s over is go home, put your arms around the people you love, and never let them go again.”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed. He couldn’t help himself from thinking it – who the hell did Steve go home and hug after bad cases? Not his father. Not his mother. Not his little sister. Who did Steve turn to for human comfort? The team, and primarily Danny, that’s who. 

“He was crying, telling me how he wanted to die, how he deserved to die. A hug turned into more than a hug,” Steve added with a funny little facial tweak that broke another part of Danny’s heart. 

“I can’t believe you used sex to talk him out of his gun,” Danny said, shaking his head in dismay. 

“I can be very distracting when I need to be.” 

“Yes, you can,” Danny agreed.

“It’s not like we fucked right there in the bathroom stall. I took away his gun, took him out for a drink, and went looking for a little companionship for him. Thought if I could find him someone to spend the night with, it would take his mind off of what had happened. We were in the vehicle, prowling around. He put his arms around me, and he kissed me, and the next thing I knew, we were in the back of the HumVee, and he was all over me…we were…. What? You’re making such a face,” Steve whispered. 

“I’m having a hard time picturing you as a sexual therapist,” Williams forced himself to put on a quick smirk as he lied through his teeth. Mockery was one thing, but pity was another entirely, and Danny knew which Steve would prefer. 

“Ben needed a friend that night, and I was his C.O., and he was my responsibility. If him and me having rough sex in the back of HumVee kept him from swallowing a bullet, I’d do it again, without question. I was only trying to help him. It’s not like I did that with every member of my team.”

“You truly scare me,” Danny admitted softly.

“Sometimes I scare myself too.” 

“Did the R and R help him at all?” 

“Funny, but the leave time only made the situation worse. Lonestar came back a changed man. We both knew he needed to retire. It took me another ten months to convince him though. He’s very stubborn.” 

“What did you dig up on the rest of the Nostromo’s crew?” Danny asked as the monitor started beeping again. 

“It’s a mixed bag of misdemeanors and minor shit. Nothing to flip out about.”

“What about our suspect?” 

“I put her picture into the computer. Monica Pelletier is not her real name. It’s an alias.” 

“What is her real name?” Danny asked, peeking around Steve’s shoulder, hugging himself under one of McGarrett’s large arms. 

“Blaine Dietrich, maybe? She does resemble the driver’s license photo. But it’s clear she’s had reconstructive surgery at one time or another.”

“Anything else?”

“If she is Dietrich, she was a Marine. Her last post was in the Persian Gulf. She disappeared in 2010 on a recon mission in Algiers.” 

“What’s she doing in Hawaii, hiring herself out as a gemologist, lurking around historical dive sites? Chopping off innocent people’s hands? Stealing their earrings?” 

“Not a clue,” Steve sighed. “Her military file truncates after the mission to Algiers. Her plane went down. The entire crew was presumed killed. She turned up a few months later in North Carolina, with a new name, a new face. Her fingerprints were matched to the missing person’s case, but she disappeared before the police could speak with her. She went off the radar. She popped up in Washington DC, New York, LA, San Fran. Sorry, lost my place. I’m too tired to think. We’ll have to chase the trail in the morning. I’ll send out an updated APB to all law enforcement and military contacts, and hope for another hit.”

“Let me take you home,” Danny said, spinning Steve around by the hips, planting a gentle kiss on his bruised chin. 

“Don’t you have Gracie tonight?” 

“Friday night,” Danny murmured, dotting another kiss.

“Let’s go back to my place.”

“I’m good with that,” Danny agreed.   
 


	6. Chapter 6

They didn’t make it past the living room at the McGarrett residence. Steve dropped his duffel, and sat down on the divan with a heavy sigh that summed up how they both felt. Danny sat beside him, and patted his arm. 

“We should….” Steve suggested, motioning to the stairs. Then he yawned. 

“Yeah,” Danny agreed as he was sliding sideways. They were asleep in seconds, leaning together, snoring in tandem.

Danny jolted awake near dawn to the dulcet tones of Steve shouting out in warning and leaping to his feet. A full spotlight was sweeping through the house from whatever aircraft was apparently attempting to land on the roof. Steve dragged Danny onto the floor, tugged him bodily underneath, and concealed them both down between the divan and the coffee table. McGarrett was covering Danny, protecting him, which would have been touching if Danny could breathe! McGarrett retrieved a hidden weapon from under the divan. Danny struggled underneath him. Williams’ phone was ringing. He batted Steve on the shoulder and chest until McGarrett loosened his grip enough that Danny could answer the phone. 

“HELLO?!” Danny shouted over the whipping noise of a copter setting down in Steve’s back lawn. Someone was pounding at the back door. 

There was screaming and begging from the other end of the line. Followed by a feminine laugh. The call went dead. Danny glanced at the screen and blinked. It was Steve’s number and face that had appeared. 

“STEVE?!” Danny shouted. He wanted to show him the face plate, that he was calling him, or at least that Steve’s phone was dialing Danny’s phone. 

Steve was busy with more pressing matters, namely, whoever was pounding on the back door. McGarrett was on his feet, his face a mask of serious anger, mouth clenched, eyes narrowed. He pulled Danny behind himself and approached the door with his weapon at the ready. The phone Danny was attempting to put in Steve’s hand started ringing again. Danny drew it back to his own face, fingers in his ears to be able to hear. 

“Hello? Mary? Mary, is that you?” Danny shouted. 

Steve raised his weapon and whipped open the door. They came face to face with Captain Makepeace, who was flanked by a trio of soldiers in camouflage. McGarrett lowered his weapon, and cursed to himself. 

“….the fuck….?” McGarrett bitched, putting the weapon down on the counter. 

“Oh good. You’re home. I need you back on the Nostromo. Now,” Makepeace explained, her voice shaking, her face as pale as he had ever seen. Steve and Danny stared her up and down. She had blood splatters like red rain on her uniform, and a bloody handprint was dragged down the front of her once-pristine shirt. 

“What is it?” Steve fretted. 

“Mary!” Danny said, giving Steve the phone. McGarrett held the device absently in his palm, and stared at Makepeace. 

“It’s a fucking bloodbath is what it is. Bring your plucky sidekick. We’re gonna need a professional to sort this all out, and I’m not sure who has legal, territorial authority on this case. Your navy? My navy? The police? Your crimes task force? Who the fuck knows?” 

Makepeace whirled and stormed back out. Her trio of soldiers followed her. Steve and Danny were right behind. Steve doubled-back to grab his duffel from where he had dropped it in the living room. McGarrett shouldered the duffel and put Danny’s phone to his ear, cupping a hand over his other ear to muffle the sound of the copter blades and engines. 

“Mary?! What is it? Are you all right? You’re what? Who called you? No, babe! No! I’m fine. Nothing’s happened to me! You’re where? You’re on a plane to Honolulu?! You’re at the airport waiting for a plane to Honolulu? Mary, don’t get on that plane! I’m fine! I swear to you! Someone is playing a very sick joke! You….Mary? I’ll call you back in a few hours! You do not have to fly out here!” 

Steve handed Danny back his phone, picked Williams up by his sides, and helped him into the helicopter. Strapped him in while shouting in his ear. 

“Someone called Mary, and told her I’d been wounded in a raid! Said she needed to get to Honolulu if she wanted to see me again!”

“Pelletier?!” Danny shouted back. The copter was lifting off, and Steve wasn’t buckled in yet. McGarrett rocked on his feet, reached for a handhold on the ceiling. Danny grabbed Steve’s nearest leg to steady him. Makepeace expertly whipped a harness around Steve’s waist, and attached a cord to the D-ring on the harness, and latched the cord to the ceiling. 

“Put your bloody ass in a bloody seat, you bloody idiot,” Makepeace barked. Her trio of hounds grinned among themselves. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised!” Steve shouted back, turning to thank Makepeace. “Thanks! You scared the hell out of me!” he yelled at her. 

“Brace yourself, McGarrett! I’m about to scare the bloody hell out of you twice in one day!” Makepeace warned.

* * *

The Nostromo and her sister ships were bathed in a pre-dawn shadows. Storms were moving across the ocean, and a squall line was aimed directly for the vessels. The Navy ships were holding their perimeter. They were alive with energy and motion, crews running about, smaller vessels jetting back and forth. Whatever was going on was sure creating a lot of activity.

“Those storms are less than thirty minutes away. We need to secure this bloody vessel, lock it down, make sure the crime scene stays intact,” Makepeace was barking orders as the helicopter set down on the Nostromo’s top deck. “Hudson, Hicks, Grimsley, I want another sweep of the ship. We’ve got two missing, and I need to know where they are. Hudson, Hicks, you two go aft. Grimsley, you’re with me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Mum.” 

“Right.” 

The three soldiers were jumped down and waited. Steve got up, unhooked himself from the cord attached to the ceiling, and then undid the harness Makepeace had strapped around him. McGarrett opened his duffel and tucked a few things inside his many pockets – a small handgun, a roll of duct tape, spare clips of ammo, a dagger, etc. The captain was digging in the storage lockers behind the metal wall which backed Steve and Danny’s seats. Makepeace retrieved several large assault rifles, tossing them around like they were twigs. Her trio snatched them up from her and settled into them, securing the straps, testing their weight and size, checking for ammo. Makepeace went back for two more, large rifles, plunking one down in Steve’s hands. 

“I assume you know how to handle one of these, McGarrett?” 

“Ooooh,” Steve purred. 

“Don’t be getting all snuggly with that L86. It’s a temporary loan.” 

“Mmmm,” Steve purred again. He was pulling the support strap over his head as he jumped down. Hugged the butt of the large assault rifle against his right hip. Tested the grip. Stroked its sides. Checked the ammo. Smiled happily at Makepeace. 

“Here,” Makepeace said, giving Danny a tablet she retrieved from her vest. “Body heat scanner. We’ve got two people missing, and I want to find them. McGarrett, you’re behind me. Plucky, you’re behind McGarrett. Keep your eyes open. Grim, cover our asses.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

They spread out and climbed below deck into an ethereal, nightmare realm. The metal corridors were nearly dark and entirely empty, bathed in a reddish light which made the search team’s eyes ache. Eerie sounds floated here and there. A radio had been left on in the distance, and music was echoing through the metal walls. Boots clumped along on the flooring. Makepeace and McGarrett moved in tandem, sweeping their weapons side to side. Danny spared a moment away from the body heat scanner to watch the guy pulling up the rear. He walked backwards, sweeping his weapon and his eyes side to side in the same manner that Makepeace and McGarrett were using. 

“Plucky, anything yet?” Makepeace growled. 

“Nothing,” Danny growled back. 

“Keep your eyes on that bloody scanner. We’ve got two unaccounted for, and we’re not entirely sure yet what we’re dealing with here.” 

“Now would be a good time for salient details,” McGarrett pressed. Makepeace snorted, clicked her earpiece with a finger, and resumed her grip on her weapon. 

“Hicks? Hudson? Anything from your end?” 

“Nothing, ma’am,” came the quick reply. 

“It would help if we knew what we were searching for,” Steve pressed again, nudging the barrel of his weapon to Makepeace’s. “Chris, what are we dealing with? Talk to me.” 

“Lights went dark around 12:30, no contact after that. The Nostromo stopped answering hails at 1 a.m. Flash hailed me around 2 a.m. Said they were going in because now his teams weren’t answering either.”

Steve’s eyes went up and down the blood all over Makepeace. 

“We’ve got casualties. They’re in Junction 7. That way,” Chris answered, jerking her mic once more. “Keep talking to me, boys.” 

“We’re going through the med lab. Nothing here,” came the reply. 

“I want you to maintain an open link,” Makepeace ordered. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Plucky? Any movement?” 

“My name is Daniel,” Williams responded, eyes on the small monitor. Makepeace whipped around sideways and backwards with a snarl that raised the hair on the back of Danny’s neck. “No, ma’am. No movement.”

“I don’t like this,” Makepeace remarked. They stepped into the junction of two corridors. McGarrett rotated right. Makepeace went left. Danny stood in the middle, watching the monitor with one eye, and Grimsley with the other. 

“Thought I heard something,” the soldier answered to Makepeace’s inquiring, raised brow. 

“Anything on your end, Commander?” 

“Nothing here,” Steve answered. He ventured a few feet down the corridor, weapon sweeping side to side. 

“We’ve got a man missing from Ripley’s crew, and a middy missing from Flash’s crew,” Makepeace growled, coming back to the middle of the junction. “Everybody listen up. You verify your bloody target before you start firing. Do I make myself clear?” 

“Ain’t nothing to shoot at yet, ma’am,” one of the soldiers on the other end of the search replied. 

“There will be soon enough. Movement?” Makepeace grilled Danny. 

“Nothing. Steve? Steven?! Where are you going?” Danny grimaced. McGarrett was in stealth mode, disappearing around a corner up ahead. 

“McGarrett?!” Makepeace pulled her earpiece out and let it dangle for a second. “Steven?”

“Thought I heard……” Steve was calling back. 

“Movement?” Makepeace looked to Williams for clarification. 

“Nothing,” Danny replied. They crept along at a snail’s pace, following Steve from a distance. 

“Grim?” Makepeace called out. 

“Nothing, ma’am,” he called back. 

“Hicks? Hudson?” Makepeace called into her mic. “McGarrett, stay in visual range. Do not get ahead of the team. Bloody hell.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got him,” Danny interjected, moving ahead of Makepeace as she rotated back, shining the light on her weapon down into the grates below the decking. 

“I don’t like this place. I don’t like it at all,” she was muttering. 

Steve was coming out of another room ahead, closing the door behind himself. He shook his head at Danny. Steve headed further down the corridor, but not without tucking Danny in behind himself with one long arm. They were coming up to another junction. Steve gasped, pulled his weapon skyward, then swung it backwards. 

“What is it?” Danny said. He hadn’t seen any movement on the tablet. He held it up front and forward, and then let it slip from his grip when he saw green and cold blue readings. The tech gear clattered loudly to the decking as Steve and Danny headed into the junction. 

The four directions and the walls and even the ceiling between were coated in gore. There were military and civilian crew members strapped to the walls with cords and gear and harnesses, riding up from the floor clear to the ceiling. Danny stepped in, shoes sticking to the congealing substances on the decking, at least the goo which hadn’t slipped through the grates. It was slightly more gummy than the floor of a movie theatre. The smell of blood was nauseating though. 

Steve whirled to face Makepeace and Grimsley, mouth hanging open in horror. He wasn’t waiting long for an explanation.

“We found them on the initial search. No life signs here except for Dr. Ripley. She was flown out by medevac. We’re not going to disturb the scene until NCIS gets here, yours or mine. I’m not picky. Step back out, would you?” Makepeace growled at Danny.

“What happened here?” Danny whispered in quiet awe. Steve let his light shine slowly up the bulkhead nearest. It crossed splayed limbs, a rent-open stomach and ribs, internal organs hanging out, an unrecognizable face. The light dropped again, landing on Makepeace. 

“Near as we can tell, they were brought here, and eviscerated, vivisected, however you want to say it,” Makepeace whispered back. 

“One at a time? How many are we talking?” Steve asked. 

“Dr. Ripley was the lone survivor. There’s one missing from the Sulaco, and one midshipman missing from Flash’s crew.”

“Survivor?” Steve breathed. How was that even possible? 

Danny saw McGarrett’s light rising up and down again. He was scanning for faces. Williams looked away when the beams crossed Rebecca’s rent body and contorted features. Even as a wave of pity and sympathy swept over him, it hit Danny like a bolt. Steve was searching for Bailey, and Danny was praying he wasn’t there. They were standing in a macabre red rainfall of drips and drops, and Steve was getting a wild-eyed stare about him that was making every hair on Danny’s body stand up. 

“Dr. Ripley was flown to Oahu. She’s in no condition to answer questions. They had to sedate her,” Makepeace explained. 

“Injured like the others?” Steve feared. 

“Not a scratch on her, save the club to the head, and for self-harm where she was trying to claw her way out of the harness.”

“Ben?” Steve breathed. 

“Your colleague Lonestar is the one crew member missing,” Makepeace replied. “I did some background on him before I came to get you and your buddy. You know Bailey is seeing a psychiatrist?”

“Yes,” Steve growled, standing up straighter. “Shhh…”

“He’s got issues. Have you seen his fucking jacket, McGarrett?” 

“We’ve all got issues.”

“He’s been having flashbacks and nightmares, driving while under the influence.”

“We all have issues,” McGarrett repeated. 

“Steven, respectfully, you can’t be objective enough to see the whole picture. Ben Bailey is the only member of the crew who is missing, and the only one with the training to wreak this kind of havoc.”

“There’s no way he did this!” Steve defended immediately. 

“Were you here? Do you know for sure? Are you positive?” 

“Shut it, Captain, respectfully,” Steve growled, pulling his weapon up and whirling it into a ready position. He cast a penetrating stare into the shadows that were closing around them. Several drips of red rain marked McGarrett’s features, landed in his hair, on his broad shoulders. 

“Movement!” Williams shouted. 

Danny glanced back at the tablet he had dropped, and saw red and gold patterns tracing along the screen, headed in their direction. 

“Bloody hell,” Makepeace snarled, moving past Danny to snatch the tablet up. 

“Sorry,” Williams offered. Makepeace stowed her assault rifle and spun with the tablet. She and Grimsley both raced to flank McGarrett, leaving Danny to pull up the rear. 

“Two readings. One coming towards us. One moving away,” Makepeace reported.

“Which way?” Grimsley asked. McGarrett nodded down the left hand corridor, one which led to the interior of the ship. Makepeace confirmed, then handed the tablet back to Danny in order to rip her weapon forward again. 

“McGarrett, you’ve got point. Grim, cover our asses. Plucky….” 

“Swear to God,” Williams warned. 

“Danno, chill out,” Steve called over one shoulder, putting a hand back and pulling Danny and Chris apart. 

“I’m not your fucking sidekick,” Danny complained. 

“Partner, stow that tablet. You need your eyes on your surroundings, not on a screen. Give me a light down that way,” Steve ordered, pointing ahead. 

“What about the reading moving away from us?” Danny demanded. 

“One bloody crisis at a time,” Makepeace swore at him. 

They moved along at a snail’s pace, every drip, every echo, every strain of distant music making their flesh crawl. Danny and Makepeace both swept lights along the corridor. To make himself feel a little less naked, Danny pulled his weapon out, staying close enough behind Steve that he could feel one of McGarrett’s elbows against his side. Boots clanked on the corridor from the other end. Their lights clashed across the approach of the other two soldiers. 

“Hold your fire,” Makepeace warned. The group quickly reassembled. “Anything on your end?” the captain questioned. 

“Not a fucking thing,” Hicks confirmed. 

“We got two readings. You, and someone moving topside,” Hudson added. 

“I’m hearing something else,” Steve disagreed. 

“Dave Matthews, if I’m not mistaken,” Danny confirmed. 

“No. It’s a phone,” Steve was certain. 

“Someone find that radio and put a bullet in it,” Makepeace ordered. Her three soldiers vanished into the semi-darkness as Steve and Danny and Chris kept with the original heading. 

“What is it?” Danny asked Steve. 

McGarrett wiped his big gun to his right hip, and tugged Danny in from the left. Big, meaty paws covered Danny’s mouth and clutched the back of his skull.

“Shh,” Steve cautioned. 

Makepeace stood still, and there it was. Clear as day. Steve’s ringtone. McGarrett’s phone was within earshot. 

“Bloody hell,” Makepeace paled in the eerie red light. 

Somewhere in the distance, the radio was silenced with a quick burst of gunfire. 

“Boys, I didn’t mean that literally,” Makepeace murmured into her mic, shaking her head. Steve gave a tiny smirk before heading forward. 

Another burst of gunfire followed on the heels of the first. All the humor left Steve’s face. He yanked his assault rifle front and forward, left arm backwards around Danny once more. Over Makepeace’s open mic, all hell was breaking loose wherever her three soldiers were. 

“What’s your situation?!” Makepeace bellowed into her mic. 

“Shots fired, Captain! Shots fired! We’re taking….” Hudson’s voice was cut off with another burst of weaponry, and then a scream of pain. 

“I thought you said we were the only ones on board!?” Steve countered. 

“The second reading moving topside must have doubled-back!” Danny interjected. 

“Report!” Makepeace shouted over the mic. There was more gunfire ahead. McGarrett was pounding in the direction of the bursts of light and sound which ricocheted painfully all around. Gunfire in close quarters echoed off the metal walls and through the twisting corridors. Danny was on McGarrett’s heels in spite of his better judgment. All that came back over the open mic were groans and soft sobbing, scuffling, and another scream of pain. 

McGarrett flew through a junction. Something shadowy and lightning-quick whipped between Danny and Steve, close enough that Danny could smell perfume? 

McGarrett lost his balance, skidded down on his face. His sudden drop left Makepeace and Danny vulnerable. Bullets flew past them both, close enough to whip their hair up. Makepeace put an elbow into Danny’s neck, dropping him to the ground. She put a spray of bullets into the far wall at waist height. She managed to hold Danny down, cover him with her own body, and get her shots off with a banshee-like scream that was far more frightening than the fleeting shadows which raced away. Cartridges flew everywhere, plinking and plunking and sticking to the ooze which covered the deck. 

“DANNO!” Steve screamed.

“ ‘m all right!” Danny screamed back. 

In the staccato of noise and bursts of light, Danny could make out a long blond person stretched out against the far bulkhead, weapon in hand, teeth clenched. His square face was a mask of murderous intent. His blue eyes were highlighted by the reddish smears across his face. 

“Cease fire! Cease fire!” McGarrett ordered, pulling himself up from the flooring, shaking his body out of the harness with the assault rifle. He was smeared from the pool of blood he had slid through. He was like a denizen from the scariest circle of Hell. 

Another shot rang out from the man against the bulkhead, and it came close enough to McGarrett to leave a red streak on his right cheek. 

“LIEUTENANT BAILEY! CEASE FIRE! THAT’S AN ORDER!” McGarrett bellowed, advancing on the prone man and snatching his weapon out of his hands. Makepeace’s spray of fire had missed Bailey’s head by less than a foot. The wall was still smoking. The captain spun towards the disappearing shadows that flittered around the wall. Makepeace took off with another banshee scream. 

“Shit!” Danny hollered, torn between following her, or staying with Steve.

“Don’t lose her!” McGarrett ordered. Danny hurried off, but collided almost at once with the Makepeace’s soldiers. 

Hicks and Grimsley appeared with Hudson tucked between themselves. His left thigh had taken three bullets, and he was bleeding badly. Hicks had a shoulder wound. Grimsley was unscathed but badly shaken. 

“They’re inside the goddamn walls!” he was babbling. “Inside the goddamn walls!” 

“Get your asses topside, now!” McGarrett barked at them without even turning around. 

“Where’s Makepeace?” Hicks wailed.

“We are leaving!!!!” Hudson spat.

“Danno’s got her,” Steve answered. “TOPSIDE! NOW!” 

Danny paused at the next junction. Makepeace was nowhere in sight, and he couldn’t hear her boots clanking on the decking either. He could, however, hear Steve talking to Lonestar, and there was a frightened tone in his friend’s voice that made Danny immediately want to return to his side. And so he did. He was certain that the small and ferocious Captain Makepeace could handle herself. He fought his way through the three retreating soldiers and back to Steve’s location. 

“Ben? What happened? Talk to me!” Steve howled before he stuck a small flashlight in his own mouth to be able to assess Lonestar’s dire condition with both hands. 

“….kill me….” Bailey pleaded, hand rising up McGarrett’s shoulder, sliding down his chest. 

“….duck dat….” Steve spat back. “You stow that shit, Lieutenant,” he growled, pulling the flashlight out of his mouth before stuffing it back in to be able to dig into his myriad of pockets. “Non’t do fuddin’ dahk dihk dat, mudderfudder. You fuddin’ hear me?”

Danny returned to Steve’s side, and held the light aloft for him. 

“How is he?” Williams whispered. 

“….kill me…” Lonestar pleaded again. 

Danny was biting back bile as Steve picked up trailing parts, stuffed them quickly but carefully back inside the wounds which ran from neck to hip. When Steve started ripping open the lead of the roll of duct tape, Danny lost his composure. 

“Are you kidding me?” Danny couldn’t stop his horrified laughter. “DUCT TAPE?”

“It's like the Force.....light side…. dark side….. holds the universe together….” Lonestar was rambling, laughing, coughing. 

Steve was whipping the duct tape around and across and around Ben Bailey’s chest with incredible speed. Danny helped pull Lonestar forward so Steve could wrap his chest with a solid pack of silvery, sticky tape. Strange that the most overwhelming stench from Lonestar was distinctly alcoholic, and not feral body smells, Danny thought. Lonestar was sagging and slippery, and inelegantly drunk. 

Boots came pounding down the corridor, and someone was cursing with animated fury.

“I fucking lost her! I had her, and I fucking lost her! Bloody fucking Hell!”

“Makepeace?” McGarrett cried out. 

“I had Pelletier, and she fucking vanished!” Makepeace howled.

“Forget her! I need another medevac! NOW!!”

“I’m on it,” Chris replied, pulling Steve’s assault rifle and harness up from the floor. 

“You want me to…” Danny offered, moving to take Bailey’s other arm. 

“No, Plucky. Here. Make yourself useful. Cover our asses. Don’t shoot any friendlies,” Makepeace growled at Danny, dropping Steve’s assault rifle over Williams’ shoulder, strapping it around him, and pointing him backwards. She lifted the weapon into position and patted Danny hard on the back. 

Steve was levering Lonestar up onto his shoulder, dragging an arm up and around himself. Bailey groaned and sobbed out in pain as they went northward. 

“Please, God, Commander, let me die,” Bailey pleaded. 

“Fuck that,” Steve growled angrily. 

“Oh God. Oh God.”

“Pain is weakness leaving the body,” Steve whispered to him. “Are you listening to me? Pain is…”

“…weakness leaving the body….” Lonestar whispered back, nodding in agreement. 

“Pain is weakness, leaving the body,” Steve repeated sternly. 

“….not getting off this ship….” Lonestar sagged.

“The hell you aren’t,” Steve growled, adjusting his grip. 

“I’m seeing light….beautiful light,” Lonestar whispered.

“Yeah, we’re all seeing light. It’s a fucking porthole,” Steve smirked, giving Lonestar a vicious shake which opened his eyes wider. 

Makepeace and Williams exchanged a frightened glance in the red-glare of the dark corridor. Needless to say, there were no portholes anywhere near their location. 

“Lieutenant, we’re two decks down. We’re are getting off this fucking ship. Now. You with me?” McGarrett barked with authority, carrying as much of Lonestar as he could manage. 

“Hooyah,” Lonestar mumbled without conviction.

“That’s better,” Steve smiled. “Danno?!”

“Covering our asses! Got it!” Williams called back, mimicking the motions that Makepeace was doing up ahead of McGarrett and Lonestar. He would never have admitted it in a million years, but there was an undeniable pleasure about being able to handle a weapon this big, letting the butt rest against his chest. 

“Hip, Danno, hip,” Steve called back, shifting his grip on Lonestar. Danny nestled the weapon lower, grumbling internally. Leave it to Steve to find time to criticize about proper weapon handling during a strategic retreat. 

“He’s losing consciousness,” Makepeace warned. 

“Ben!?” Steve demanded. Lonestar was fading in and out between two realities. He reeked of drink and misery. 

“Kill me,” Bailey pleaded again. 

“You stop talking like that, or I’m going to kick your ass,” Steve answered. He came to a ladder leading to the deck above. He leaned Lonestar into Makepeace’s grip long enough to scramble up. Steve squatted over the hole in order to lift Lonestar up through the opening. Bailey groaned out, leaving a trail of gory drips behind. 

He had a gash in his left thigh which was probably how he had been incapacitated in the first place. 

“We’ve got to bloody hurry. He’s in bad shape,” Makepeace called out, lifting Lonestar from underneath, hands all over and under, shoving skyward. “It would have to be the biggest lug who gets wounded, wouldn’t it? Bloody hell.” 

“Bloody Mary,” Lonestar was coughing up a laugh and blood and drool. 

“I got you. I got you. Don’t be such a baby. You’ve been hurt worse than this,” Steve laughed, leaning Lonestar on the bulkhead above. 

“….I’m not ready…” Bailey was breathing hard.

Steve pulled Makepeace and her weapon altogether through the hole, chucking her forward. She landed with a loud clank, and was in defensive position within a couple seconds, scanning the corridor. Lonestar was slipping sideways. Danny made to climb the ladder on his own, but Steve scooped him up too, dropping him on the upper deck with a loud thump.

“You good?” McGarrett questioned. 

“Good,” Danny confirmed. “Him, not so much.” 

“He’ll be fine,” McGarrett replied, scooping Lonestar up. They limped along, motley and bedraggled. 

“I’m already dead, Steve,” Bailey whispered. “Leave me. Get out.” 

“Lieutenant, did I fucking give you permission to die?” Steve spat back, shaking Lonestar angrily again. 

“No,” Bailey admitted weakly.

“No, I did not, Lieutenant! Shut the fuck up, and keep moving. Danno?”

“Right behind you,” Williams bellowed back. “What is this? Are we playing Marco Polo or something?” 

“Don’t back-talk me, Williams! I need to know where you are,” Steve whirled around long enough to answer before whirling back. That was a face you did not mess with. Makepeace moved ahead of McGarrett and scanned the next corridor. They were one deck below topside, and the ship was swaying and rocking even worse than before. 

“The squall line is about to hit,” Makepeace called out. “We need to get your man off this vessel. Like yesterday.”

“Affirmative,” Steve answered her. They were close enough to the top deck to hear the copter blades whirling and thumping overhead. 

“Danno! You’re up first.” 

Makepeace grabbed Danny and shoved him up the staircase. Danny emerged into a whipping rain, objects rolling and crashing around the deck. He was dodging the two cannons as they rocked side to side against their restraints. Makepeace’s three soldiers were by the helicopter, which was barely able to maintain its position. They pushed their injured comrade onto the bird, and then one stayed with him while the other came back to help Steve with Lonestar. 

“Tell him to lift that bird’s gear!” Makepeace shouted into her mic. The soldier who had remained with the wounded Hudson climbed into the rocking helicopter and relayed the orders to the pilot. The craft lifted delicately and hovered above the deck instead of on it. Makepeace and Williams stowed their weapons in unison, and each of the four of them – Hicks, Williams, Makepeace, and McGarrett—took one of Lonestar’s limbs, carrying the gravely-wounded man towards the waiting bird. 

They were airborne in a matter of seconds. Makepeace was on the radio with the pilots, strapping herself into a harness, latching herself to the ceiling by cord. She checked on her men, nodding, giving each one a pat on the face or the shoulder before turning back to Steve.

McGarrett was down over Lonestar, assessing him once more, rocking as the bird rocked with the violent winds. Danny got a grip on one of Steve’s ankles, just in case. The duct tape was holding, but Bailey was a ghastly shade of grey and white. Makepeace wrapped a harness around Steve’s chest, hooking him by cord to the ceiling. 

“I’ll call ahead, have a shock trauma team waiting,” Chris promised while she was down over Steve’s back. 

“Thanks,” McGarrett called out. “Ben? I need to know what happened down there. Can you hear me?” 

“….not ready to be a grandfather…” Lonestar groaned. 

“Lieutenant?!” McGarrett bellowed. Lonestar snapped back to reality. 

“Commander?” 

“I’m here,” McGarrett said, getting closer still, his face an inch away from the injured man. 

“It’s for you,” he whispered, slapping Steve’s phone into his grip. The device was dripping with blood, and smeared with fingerprints.


	7. Chapter 7

“Commander McGarrett?” 

Steve flinched and started, standing to his feet in a split second. 

“Yes, ma’am?” 

“Dr. Weimer. You came in with Mr. Bailey?” 

“Yes, ma’am. How is he?” 

Danny stirred awake, hand on Steve’s arm, blinking away sleep. A glance at the clock on the wall said it was after 2 p.m. 

“Mr. Bailey is out of surgery. It was touch and go there for a couple hours. I’m not going to lie to you. He lost a lot of blood. He’s in very bad shape. If he’s got family, you should contact them.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Call me Fran.” 

“Fran, thank you.” 

“You wanna tell me what your friend was doing tangling with the business end of a chainsaw?” 

“She used a chainsaw?” Steve whimpered, voice rising, eyes widening. 

“No. Figure of speech. Poor choice of words. Whoever attacked him used two different blades. Quick thinking with the duct tape, by the way,” Weimer replied, putting the rest of the roll back in Steve’s grip. 

“Did you find a phone in his personal effects?” Steve asked, tucking the roll of tape back into a pocket. 

“Here you are,” Dr. Weimer replied, putting a phone in McGarrett’s open hand. “Mr. Bailey is in recovery right now. I’ll move him to ICU after that. It’s going to take time. We’ll have to wait and see. Call his family. Get them here.” 

“Will do,” Steve nodded eagerly, glad to be given a purpose.

“I’ll bring you a copy of my report in about twenty,” Dr. Weimer called as she headed away. 

Steve paced while Danny sat back down. People moved around McGarrett in the waiting room, giving him a wide berth when they got a good look at him. Steve was covered in blood, muck, and dried goo. There was a bloody arm print around his neck where Bailey had been latched onto him, and a full hand print in the middle of his back. Danny stared at that print and wondered how it had gotten there. 

Steve was thumbing through Bailey’s phone contents. He lighted on an entry, and clicked the screen. 

“Hello?” he asked hopefully. “This is Commander Steve McGarrett. Are you Ben Bailey’s wife? Girlfriend. Ma’am, there was an incident on the Nostromo.” 

Danny tuned out the conversation as Steve went through the motions of explaining where he was calling from, what had happened, what the woman on the other end of the call needed to do. Thirty seconds later, McGarrett was sitting back down by Danny in the excruciating plastic chairs, stretching out his limbs, still rooting through the contents of Lonestar’s phone logs. 

“His last call was at 12:45 a.m. Darla Dubose. Dallas-Fort Worth.” 

“Wife?” 

“Ex-wife number one,” Steve smiled faintly. “The call before that was Lacy Sweetwater. Mobile.”

“Wife number two?” 

“Daughter number one.”

“You gonna call them?” 

“I’ll wait and see what Girlfriend number one has to say. Stephanie. She’s on her way here. Has to pick up their son from daycare.” 

“How do you think this all went down? It wasn’t Lonestar who attacked the crew. It had to have been Pelletier,” Danny suggested. He tested his hand against the mark on Steve’s back. It wasn’t his print there. 

“I agree. But there’s no way she did that all by herself. I don’t care if she is a one-woman wrecking crew. You’re not going to be able to subdue eighteen people on your own that way.” 

“She had to have pulled them below decks one at a time, lured them into position, and taken them out that way.”

“Agreed,” Steve nodded tiredly. 

“You wanna know what I wanna know?” 

“How did she find out that Ripley had helped us?”

“Yes, that, but also….”

“How’d Pelletier get on board the Nostromo without anyone noticing?” Steve concluded. 

“That’s cute, how you finish each other’s sentences.”

Danny and Steve turned around to see Captain Makepeace had found them. She had cleaned up and dressed in another pristine uniform. She was carrying a couple of folders. Looking much more cool and collected than the shrieking banshee who had brandished an assault rifle while racing through a dead-dark-evil ship a few hours ago. 

“Hey,” Steve smiled. 

“Hey, yourself. You look like a wreck, love,” she commented as she handed him one of the folders. “And you, Danno, twice as bad as him.”

“How did Pelletier get on board the Nostromo?” Steve asked. 

“The missing midshipman from Hitchins’ crew? Shelly Biancolli. She was found unconscious in the hold of the Sulaco. Minus her diving gear and wetsuit. That’s how Pelletier was able to get on board the Nostromo without anyone noticing. She was dressed as Biancolli, and went in and out with the rest of the Navy shifts,” Makepeace answered. 

“How’s Shelly? Is she gonna make it?” Danny hoped. 

“She’ll be fine. Cursing in six different languages, but she’s good to go. How’s Ben?” 

“Touch and go. I called his girlfriend Stephanie. She’s on her way. Should I call his ex-wives? What do you think?” Steve wondered. 

“Are they close?” 

“Wife number one swore out a restraining order against him, so I would say no.”

“Ex-wives. More than one?” Danny interjected.

“Married. Divorced. Married. Divorced. Three kids. Four kids? I don’t know where he stands with ex-wife number two.” 

“I’d wait for Stephanie. Get her take on things. The rest of the family is state-side on the mainland?” Makepeace asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“Wait for Stephanie.” 

“Thanks. I agree.” 

“Oh, and you,” Makepeace said, standing in front of Danny. “I owe you an apology.” 

“For what?” Danny grinned at her. 

“I shouldna’ been calling you ‘Plucky’. Sorry you took it so hard.” 

“Sorry I snapped at you.” 

“Being on the wee side myself, I should have been more sensitive to your feelings. I know what it’s like, having people judge you by your size. Sorry if I hurt your feelings, and made you all pissy and defensive and such.” 

“Danno’s got a lot of those. Feelings, that is. He’s the sensitive sort,” Steve smiled, patting Danny’s arm. 

“So what is your nickname, Captain Makepeace?” Danny asked Chris, who immediately groaned and winced. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” she lied.

“Oh, come on. They’ve all got nicknames. I’m sure they gave you one too,” Danny pressed. 

“Bloody hell, Captain, you may as well bloody tell him. Cause he’s gonna bloody guess in his own,” McGarrett interjected in a better than average imitation of Makepeace’s accent. 

“You, McGarrett, shut your piehole. ‘Bloody Mary.’ That’s what they called me coming up in the ranks. No, you may not call me that. I hated every minute of it,” Chris replied.

“Chris, are you still single?” Steve asked Makepeace. Her eyebrows rose. 

“Talk about a non-sequitur.”

“Just curious.” 

“Like it’s any of your bloody business?” 

“It’s just I was thinking you and Danno should hookup. Go out. Give it a shot. You make a cute couple,” Steve commented, flipping through pages in his folder. “You’re about the same height. You’ve both got a mouth on you. You’d be cute together.” 

“Fuck you, McGarrett,” Makepeace whispered. 

“Fuck you twice,” Williams countered as they both glared at Steve. Makepeace was fishing in a side pocket of her uniform. She drew out a picture, and put it in McGarrett’s grip. 

“That’s Pete. My partner. That’s Alex. Our son. No. I’m not single. And no offense to your adorable sidekick, but he’s not my type.” 

“Oh,” Steve blushed peony pink. 

“ ‘Oh’? Is that all you have to say for yourself?” Danny growled. “Pete’s a handsome guy. Tall, lean, dark hair, blue eyes. Looks familiar.” Danny smiled at Steve and waited for him to get it. 

“Oh,” Makepeace echoed, laughing to herself as she studied the photograph too. “Hadn’t ever thought of it that way.” She got what Danny was driving at. “What? Why are you staring at me like that, McGarrett?” 

“I cannot imagine you pregnant. Did that delivery team score hazard pay for going through labor with you?” Steve asked, grinning brightly again.

“I had a spinal block with not one but two Demerol chasers. I felt nothing,” Makepeace laughed, tucking the picture away again. 

“Congratulations. Late. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“You were kinda busy with your dad’s death and all. I didn’t want to tell you I was gaining a family when you were losing most of yours. Didna’ seem the right thing to be doing.” 

“Congrats,” Steve repeated. 

“Thanks. I’m headed down to check on Hudson, up to check on Ripley, then back to the Nostromo, see if Flash’s crew needs any assistance. You call me if you need anything, if you learn anything from this end.” 

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Keep me posted on Lonestar’s condition too.”

“Will do,” Steve called out. 

Makepeace disappeared again. Danny was giving Steve venomous side-eye, which McGarrett was shrinking back from. 

“You do make a cute couple,” the Navy SEAL whispered tentatively, biting his bottom lip. 

“You are so in trouble.” 

“All that blonde hair, and those big blue eyes. Your kids would be chubby, cute, little cherubs.” 

“Nope,” Danny muttered, nails clenched in the small of Steve’s back. 

McGarrett squeaked in reply. 

“Steven, you do not have permission to set me up on dates with dangerous, gun-toting British Naval Intelligence officers. Do you understand me?” 

“Mm hmm,” Steve nodded, biting back a smile. Danny clenched his nails deeper. 

“No offense to Bloody Mary, but she’s so not my type.” 

“Got it. Do you have a type?” 

“Open to debate. Heads up, McGarrett. Eleven o’ clock.”

“Hm, what?” Steve’s head popped up as Danny stood up. “I don’t understand,” the other man glanced around. 

A dark-haired woman had stopped at the nurses’ station. The head nurse pointed her towards Steve and Danny. 

“Commander McGarrett?” the worried young woman said, approaching them at a fast clip. She had a small boy on her arm, with blond hair, a square head, and Nordic blue eyes. 

“You must be Stephanie. Call me Steve,” McGarrett said as he extended a hand. Danny carefully collected the little boy from her grip, bouncing him around on one arm, getting him to smile. The woman stepped back instead of forward. She took Steve’s hand with a wry smile. 

“Smooth Dog?”

“Yes?” 

“I didn’t realize your name was Steve.” 

“Sorry.”

“Ben calls you ‘Doggie’ when he talks about you.” 

“Oh.” 

“Which is quite often,” she added, sizing Steve up and down.

“Nice to meet you,” McGarrett said hopefully. Danny was grinning. “Ben is this way. In recovery.”

“Do you need help?” Stephanie asked of Danny. 

“Nah. We’re good,” Danny said, bouncing the young boy in his arms around a little. “You and me are going to find the vending machines. How does that sound?” 

“Yaaaaah!”

“What’s his name?” 

“Steven,” Stephanie remarked with another distrustful glance at McGarrett.

“Imagine that,” Danny murmured with a chipmunk laugh.


	8. Chapter 8

“I can’t shake the feeling I’ve seen her before somewhere,” Steve was saying as he and Danny walked through the front doors of the office. Chin was hard at work at the standing computer. Catherine was in her office, head in the computer there. Kono was trolling through logs. 

“Yeah, babe. Every morning in the mirror,” Danny laughed in reply. 

“Whu?” Steve whispered. 

“You’re back!” Chin said excitedly. “I found your phone! It came alive on the Nostromo…this morning….oh.”

McGarrett was holding up an evidence bag, inside of which was his filthy, gruesome phone. His face was filled with dry, humorous sarcasm. 

“Oh,” Chin repeated. 

“Any news on Pelletier’s whereabouts?” Danny wondered. 

“Makepeace was sure she saw Pelletier on the Nostromo. She must have stuffed my phone into Lonestar’s pocket after she attacked him,” Steve added. 

“Seventeen dead. Two in critical condition. This woman is leaving a trail of bodies all over this island,” Kono complained angrily. 

“She’d be a lot easier to track if we had her prints,” Chin remarked. 

“Hey, SEAL boy, give me your shirt,” Danny said, patting Steve’s back. 

“What?” McGarrett raised a brow. 

“Give me your shirt. I’m playing a hunch.” 

“You got a half-assed theory?” Steve asked, fingers pulling, elbows crossed, arms rising. He gave Danny the shirt, and Williams whipped it inside out and back again, dropping it down on the table-top computer. Chin and Kono recoiled, and Steve went pale when Danny indicated the full handprint on the reverse. 

“She was on the Nostromo all right. She pushed you into the line of fire with Lonestar, went between us, and fled the scene,” Danny theorized. 

“I thought you had tripped into me,” Steve confessed with a little chuckle. Danny laid his hand carefully above but not down on the print, showing it was not a match. 

“I thought you had slipped in all that blood,” Williams shrugged. “Still think Pelletier doesn’t mean you any harm?” 

“Nah,” Steve denied. “She’s got a soft spot for me.” 

“I don’t know if I’d call it a soft spot,” Kono barked. Chin bit back a smile as he scanned in the print from the shirt. Steve stared at Kono and waited for further explanation. “Boss, I saw video footage. And I only have one thing to say.” 

“What’s that?”

“Two things actually. You made a very distinct impression on our perp.”

“You think?” Danny smirked.

“What’s the second thing?” Steve asked. 

“Have you ever considered a second career as an exotic dancer?” Kono grinned. Danny’s mouth filled with drool at the thought. Kalakaua had a great idea there.

“Our perp has a serious fixation on you. Mary called, by the way. She’s at the airport. I sent a couple HPD officers to bring her here,” Chin said. 

“Forgot to call Mary back,” Steve winced, rubbing his forehead, then crossing his arms over his chest. 

“We should check your phone logs and see who else she called with your phone,” Chin said, reaching over to take the device from McGarrett. 

“Mary's gonna be so pissed,” Steve whispered to himself. 

“Commander?” Rollins called from her office, entering the common area. “HPD on line one for you. They’ve got Pelletier on video.” 

“Where?!” Steve asked excitedly. He pulled his shirt back up from the computer table, slipping it back over his head. 

“Honolulu Airport. Arrivals," Rollins answered. 

McGarrett swelled with unholy fear, and almost crashed through the door sprinting out of the office.

“STEVE!!!” Danny wailed, trailing in his wake, legs aching. He caught a glimpse of Steve sliding down the banister of the stairs, leaping off, sprinting for the double-door exit. “STEVE! I’VE GOT THE KEYS! Son of a bitch!”

It was a ten-minute drive from Iolani Palace to Honolulu International Airport. On a good day. They made it in four minutes. It would have been two, but Danny’s Camaro was not water-proof, and therefore driving across the lagoon was not an option, not that Steve hadn’t momentarily considered it in his state of panic. Steve was out of the car before it came to a complete stop. Danny threw the Camaro into park and jerked against the windshield getting a leg across the console and hitting the brake pedal. Once his vehicle was secure, Danny followed Steve. 

McGarrett was not hard to find. A big man of military bearing, covered in bloody handprints, screaming at the top of his lungs, standing in the middle of a crowded airport tended to part the waves, so to speak. 

“MARY McGARRETT!!!” 

“Steve?” came the timid, concerned reply from halfway down the terminal. Danny had almost reached McGarrett when Steve shot off in the direction of his sister’s voice. There was an undeniable urgency to his trajectory which made people leap out of his way, either for fear of getting run over, or out of recognition that he had a dire purpose. 

Gunfire roared out, scattering the crowd even further into the every corner and crevice available for cover. Danny saw McGarrett making a dramatic leap up ahead. Williams drew his gun, giving cover against the figure leaping out of the side corridor. Bullets danced after Steve’s long legs but couldn’t catch him. Steve collided with Mary, knocked her clear off her feet. He landed on one shoulder, and they skidded around behind a column to the sounds of his sister’s angry screams. 

Danny took off after Pelletier, trading gunfire with her, dodging bullets, screaming for her to stop. 

“FREEZE! 5-O!!!”

Pelletier’s next shot parted Danny’s hair. 

“Here! Stay down!” Steve shouted at Mary, dropping his Sig P226 into her grip. 

“Steve! You know how I feel about guns!” Mary shouted. 

“If she comes back this way, you drop her!” Steve roared in reply. 

“Yes, sir!” Mary yelled back sarcastically. “Do you expect me to salute too?” 

“Goddamn it, Mary,” Steve growled in exasperation before he took off at top speed. 

Danny glanced back only long enough to see Steve’s sister remove the safety, pop out the clip, and ram it back in like a professional, cursing all the while. Maybe it was in the McGarrett DNA code – an inborn ability to handle a vast array of deadly firearms. 

Steve came barreling past Danny in pursuit of Pelletier, turning Williams’ attention back to the escaping perp. Steve’s eyes were full of bloody murder. Danny knew it was imperative to get his hands on Pelletier before Steve caught up with her. Or maybe not, he mused, taking off after McGarrett. 

“DIETRICH!” Steve bellowed in an authoritative voice which carried command with every decibel. Pelletier faltered turning the next corner, then made a beeline for the parking garage superstructure. 

“She must be headed for her car!” Danny decided, catching up to McGarrett for a moment.

“No shit, Captain Obvious,” Steve spat, taking off again in a scary burst of speed. 

Danny came to a halt, caught his breath, and raced back towards where the Camaro was parked. He reasoned if he could get his car, he would be able to block Pelletier’s Mercedes’ exit from the garage. 

That was the plan anyway. 

Williams was getting into the open driver’s door of the Camaro as HPD units sped through the arrivals gate. A helicopter was circling overhead. Danny thought he could make out Chin in the passenger seat, headphones on his head, mic in place. Kono’s small, red, speed machine blazed through from the opposite direction. She whirled it around, humped over the median, and pulled alongside Danny with a screech and billow of burnt rubber. 

“Cover the garage!” Williams ordered. Kono nodded, threw her car in reverse, threw her arm over the seat, and roared backwards through an obstacle course of taxis and baggage trollies. 

Door still hanging open, Danny glanced up through the rear view mirror when he caught a look of sheer panic on Kono’s face. She ripped her car around in time for two figures to come running out of the parking garage, heading straight for her. 

Pelletier had a foot up the hood before Kono could stop. Kalakaua slammed both shoes down in the floorboard, and screamed out in Hawaiian. Pelletier was leaping off the back of Kono’s car like a gazelle. She had hardly broken her stride. But she wasn’t Kono’s main concern. It was the second figure pounding down the asphalt surface which had petrified the youngest member of the 5-0 team. The look of Steve’s face was making Kono’s hair stand up. 

Steve McGarrett left three impressions on Kono’s little car as he sailed towards his target. He got a big boot in the middle of Kono’s hood, one in the roof of her car, and propelled himself off the back of the car to land smoothly on the ground and keep running. He was closing the distance between himself and Pelletier, and that was making him even more determined. 

Kono was out of her car, gun in hand, hoping to get a shot around Steve, but she yanked her weapon up when her eyes connected with Danny’s at the other end of the stretch of asphalt. It hit Danny that Kono was holding her fire because she didn’t want to shoot Danny by mistake. And then something else hit him – Pelletier. 

“Drive!” Pelletier snarled, ramming her gun in his face as she climbed through the open door and over Danny. 

Williams’ foot hit the gas, and the car propelled forward as Pelletier scrambled over the passenger seat, and halfway out the window. She took several shots at McGarrett. One caught Steve in the shoulder, and he didn’t even so much as flinch, just kept on coming, with a scarlet patch blooming over his shirt sleeve and running down his chest. 

“What IS he?! Some kind of goddamn Terminator!?” Pelletier screamed in panic at Danny. 

“Yes!” Danny yelled back. 

“Drive! I said drive!” 

Danny got a grip on the steering wheel and pressed the gas pedal harder. He wasn’t watching the road. His eyes were glued to the M11-A1 Pelletier had stuffed in his face. 

“Where? Where am I going? What are you doing?” Danny demanded. 

Pelletier took another shot at McGarrett. This time Steve had the good sense to duck. He went down on his knee, but was back up the next second. Danny could see in the rearview that Kono’s car was rolling up beside Steve. McGarrett slithered in through the open passenger window. Kono took off in pursuit, having a very animated conversation with McGarrett. His part of the conversation was even more high-spirited. 

“Mahina Opu,” Pelletier growled. “I’m sure you know the way!”

Danny’s phone was ringing urgently in his pocket. 

“Should I get that?” Williams wondered. 

“Fucking drive! And shut your mouth!” 

Pelletier was digging into Danny’s pants for his phone. 

“You back off, or he’s dead, McGarrett! Do you hear me?” 

“You hurt Danno, and I will rip you limb from limb,” Steve warned from the other end of the line. 

“Before or after you arrest me?” 

“Arrest you? Not what I had in mind,” McGarrett responded with a blood-thirsty growl.

“Don’t be hasty, McGarrett. I know how attached you are to your little buddy. I’ve seen the pictures. Quite illuminating. You sure you wanna push your luck with me? You saw what I did to the Nostromo and her crew. You wanna be picking Danno’s guts up off the highway?”

“Let him go, Dietrich. That’s an order.” Steve was calling her by her real name again, and it made her twitch in a very unwell manner that did not make Danny feel safe with her. 

“Don’t worry, McGarrett. I won’t kill him quickly. I’ll take my time with him, because he’s just that special to you.” 

“You will let him go, or you will die.”

“Give me back my earring.” 

“Go to hell.” 

“Danny Williams is a dead man, McGarrett, and it’s all on you.” 

With that, she tossed the phone out the window.


	9. Chapter 9

It’s difficult as hell to maneuver a car while someone is jamming a firearm in your face. You want to move with the wheel, go with the flow, drive with your entire body, keep your eyes on the road, but all you can think about are the fifteen million horrible scenarios playing out in your head, all of which end with that gun going off. You can’t stop watching the gun. You’re worried you’ll hit a bump and the gun will go off. Or the perp will slip as you peel around the turns of the mountainous highway, you’ll hit a pothole, and the gun will go off. Or she’s going to get well and truly pissed because you keep running your mouth, and she will shoot you in the face for ten seconds of peace and quiet before the car plunges off the side of the looming cliffs. 

You’ve got responsibilities. You’re telling her all about them. You’ve got a daughter. You’ve got a son too, but you don’t know that for sure at this point. Only a feeling, because he has your chipmunk laugh. You’ve also got someone in your life that loves you, really loves you. You love him back, even though he irritates you to the point of madness. He occupies your every waking thought some days. That man is not more than twenty feet behind you in another vehicle. He’s close enough that you can see his horrified but determined expression in the rearview mirror. You do not envy the young woman at the wheel of the car behind you, what she must be going through right at this moment. 

“Oh my fucking God! Do you ever shut up!?” Pelletier demanded.

“If anything happens to me, Steve won’t stop. You will never have another peaceful second in your short and miserable life. If you do anything to me, McGarrett will hurt you. He will hurt you bad, right where you live,” Danny warned venomously, whipping around the next turn. 

“Up ahead, pull off, and get out of the car. Do you understand me?” Pelletier howled at Williams. 

“Now you’re talking, sister,” Danny nodded. His face started to brighten, until he recognized where they were. 

The natural bowl harbor of Mahina Opu was down at the bottom of the turn, about a mile away. They were pulling off on the cliff where Pelletier had thrown Julie Takimodo’s hand-less corpse. His head was spinning, and it was like he was watching this happen from a distance. 

There was a helicopter circling overhead, as though the pilot and the passenger knew exactly where to go. Off in the distance, he could see another copter coming in. Is that a freaking television crew? Or is it a tourist chopper? Just fucking great. His demise was about to be captured in living color, from three overhead views, because he knew good and well that the HPD helicopter has a video camera trained on him like the other two birds. Maybe if he was really lucky, Grace might be tuning in for the evening news. 

“Pull over!” Pelletier ordered. 

Danny yanked the wheel, careened to a stop, and let himself be dragged out of the Camaro from the passenger side. He had to give Pelletier this much – she was one very determined perp. She had him by his bedraggled tie, using it like a leash. Kono plowed into a parking spot, and she and Steve were out of the car, weapons drawn, advancing on the height of the cliff. 

“It’s over, Dietrich!” Steve shouted. Every time he said her real name, she twitched. Steve training his backup weapon on her while at the same time he was assessing Danny’s condition. Other than a bruised face and claw prints across his chest where Pelletier had clambered over him into the vehicle, Danny didn’t look too bad. McGarrett gave Williams a reassuring twitch of a smile. “I got this. Don’t worry, Danno,” Steve whispered for Danny alone. 

“Not another step, McGarrett!” Pelletier growled. She was dragging Danny towards the precipice, weapon aimed at Steve one second, Danny the next, back and forth, back and forth. 

“Let him go. We’ll take you in,” Kono promised, weapon trained on Pelletier too.

“Look at me. I’m putting down the gun. Look at me,” Steve continued, getting closer even as Pelletier dragged Danny backwards. McGarrett raised his hands out to each side, and bent down to put the gun on the ground. “Let him go, and you can have me.” 

“Bad idea. Bad idea. Really bad idea,” Danny argued. 

Pelletier was smiling once more. She tightened her grip on Danny’s tie, giving him a good shake for his troubles. 

“He does love you, doesn’t he?” she snarled. “Kick the gun off the cliff, McGarrett.” 

Steve gave his gun a good punt, and it sailed away into nothing. Oh fuck. Worse than nothing. Danny swallowed and counted. It was a full eight seconds before he heard a splash. Williams glanced back. The cliff met water the same deep blue color as Steve’s eyes. It wasn’t a pebbled beach, but one of the treacherous drops off the shelf of the beach. How far down the plunge actually go? How far could the human body fall before reaching terminal velocity? 

“Let go of Danno, and you can have me,” McGarrett pleaded. 

“Kick her gun over too,” Pelletier said, tilting her head towards Kono. 

“No fucking way,” Kalakaua growled. 

“Kono….” 

“Boss, it’s my favorite one,” she whined.

“Kono, please….” Steve pleaded. 

Kalakaua tossed her weapon down in front of Steve, and McGarrett booted it over the cliff too. 

“Call off your dogs,” Pelletier demanded, eyes and gun aimed at the HPD helicopter for a second, where Chin had his weapon trained on the perp. 

McGarrett waved at Chin, pushed forward with both hands as if he could move the helicopter away by willpower alone. Maybe he could? Danny wouldn’t be surprised. Chin was lowering his weapon, not happy at all with the order to pull back. He patted the pilot’s arm, and the helicopter moved slightly away from the cliff. 

Pelletier’s eyes snapped back to Kono, who was taking advantage of the perp’s distracted attention. Kalakaua was dropping down to one knee to retrieve the weapon strapped to her ankle. 

“Danno!” Steve called out, rocketing towards Williams. Why was he digging into his pocket? What was he pulling around his chest? A thin silver harness? Danny had no idea why Steve was running towards him. 

Pelletier whirled around, right leg coming skyward. She caught Danny dead center in the sternum, and sent him sailing backwards out into nothing. His arms flailed out of reflex. 

Split seconds were seared like photographs into Danny’s terrified brain. His life wasn’t flashing before his eyes. Certain death was. 

Fate was not without a sense of humor. Danny was moving horizontally at first, given the force of the kick Pelletier had landed on him. Physics dictated that the power of her kick would momentarily outflank the force of gravity, but not for very long. The horizontal push only prolonged Danny’s life by a mere second. Gravity got its grip in him and pulled hard. 

Kono got off a single shot. Danny saw Pelletier’s head whip back. She flew over the side of the cliff too with a GSW in her left shoulder. Kono had winged her. The rookie didn’t look happy though. She was standing on the cliff, screaming in horror. 

“DANNY!”

The next split second was tranquil. It was just Danny and all that blue sky, eternal and beautiful. Three floating shapes whirled in the distance, but Danny could not distinguish the whirring of the helicopter blades from the blood rushing through his veins, pounding in his ears. It was the most peaceful, floating feeling Danny had had in a long while. Maybe his brain had short circuited from fear already? 

Another shape came over the cliff less than a second after Danny, drawing Williams’ eyes his way, because how could you not stare? The shape was wearing cargo pants and a blood-stained tee, and it was shouting “HOOYAH!” 

Steve was dropping right in Danny’s wake like a human torpedo.

Oh fuck. If getting kicked over a cliff by a vicious, murderous psychopath wasn’t terrifying enough, having Steve McGarrett free-falling towards him, wearing that particular crazy-wild expression, certainly would scare any sane human being into fits of unmitigated panic. 

McGarrett had really gotten good height on that initial leap though, hadn’t he? Nice form too. Had Steve ever cliff-dived before? The odds were pretty good, the analytical part of Danny’s brain offered hopefully. 

There were stick-like, hairy things flapping around next to Danny. It was very distracting. He became suddenly aware that he was flailing all his limbs, both arms and legs, and he was wailing at the top of his lungs. This was not going to be pretty. Williams wasn’t going to go gently into that good night. He was not going to remain calm. He was going to scream all the way down this cliff and straight into eternity! 

Steve plummeted towards Danny. Williams reasoned that Steve must be acting on instincts and training. SEAL boy had probably done jumps like this every day for years while in the service. It was nothing for him to take a plunge like this, right? Because surely Steve hadn’t come over that cliff without knowing he could carry them both safely all the way to the bottom, had he? Julie Takimodo had died going over this cliff. But then again, she had been unconscious and missing her hands. Did Steve have a parachute under that tight tee? What were those silver strands whipping around behind him? 

A comforting thought occurred to Danny, compliments of the analytical part of his brain. Steve was heavier than Danny, and therefore McGarrett would fall faster than Williams. This difference in weight, and difference in speed, would allow Steve to catch up to Danny, wouldn’t it? Danny closed his eyes and prayed.

Who was the Hawaiian god of flight? 

Physics proved correct once again. Steve collided with Danny, and both McGarrett’s arms shot right around Williams. They were less than four seconds from splashdown. Williams’ eyes snapped open, because damn it, that had hurt!

“Hang on!” McGarrett ordered. 

It then occurred to Danny that their joined body mass would accelerate the fall, giving them even less time. Williams couldn’t stop screaming, but he did latch arms and legs both around Steve’s middle as directed. He buried his face in Steve’s chest and breathed him in. 

McGarrett stuffed a wobbling, loose, frayed roll of duct tape between them. 

Danny looked up (down?) to catch the excited expression on McGarrett’s face. Steve was screaming too now as they rocketed downward together. 

Seeing the roll of sturdy tape between them, Danny realized what the silver strands wrapped around his and Steve's chest were now. He was suddenly furious, thoroughly convinced that McGarrett had come over that cliff carrying nothing more than undying love and duct tape! 

Danny was putting his life in the hands of a complete madman!

Said madman was balling protectively around as much of Danny as he could hold in the space of his solid chest and long legs. He was hoping to protect Danny. That was a very comforting, touching thought to carry into eternity. _He loves me enough to jump off a cliff after me. He must be crazy._

They smacked through the surface of the heavenly water like hitting a blue brick wall at seventy miles an hour. Steve’s balled-up body took the brunt of it. Danny heard Steve grunt in pain before blessed unconsciousness and icy blue water claimed them both.


	10. Chapter 10

Pain is weakness leaving the body. 

Danny woke with a groan of agony. What a load of bullshit! He stretched his heavy limbs, and took in the beeping noises around him with an air of surprise and naked suspicion.

Heaven had hospital staff? 

Well, that did make a certain amount of sense. Bodies were bound to arrive in bad shape from time to time, given the fact that people like Steve McGarrett existed in the world.

“He’s awake! He’s awake!”

That was the unmistakable squeal of an excited little girl. His excited little girl. 

“Grace,” Danny whispered. A form flung herself over Danny’s chest, and it felt like he’d been slammed with a sledgehammer. Grace’s worried face was down in his the next second after the raw, horrid groan escaped his throat. 

“Are you okay, Danno?” 

“Maybe we should be a touch more gentle with Daddy, hmm, honey?” That was Rachel – the Mistress of Understatement. “Are you okay, Daniel?” his ex-wife asked, not without a hint of malice. 

“Fine,” Danny breathed carefully. 

“Congratulations. You made the evening news,” she taunted with loving, sweet savagery in her tone. Her eyes twinkled with equal parts affection and disapproval.

“Steve!” Danny came wide awake with a shout. He was halfway out of the hospital bed. A leg boot struck the floor. Grace clung to him, helping push him up to his feet. 

“Don’t worry, Danno. Uncle Steve is next door,” Grace said helpfully.

Danny didn’t realize how fast he could move, even when hindered by a leg boot and while dragging along an IV stand and heart monitor. He tumbled through the doorway into the next room with a crash and shriek and clatter of twisting metal and squeaking wheels. And a happy, squealing Grace. Danny ripped out the IV, and whipped off the clip of the heart monitor, leaving both machines in a pile where they had tumbled. 

“Danno’s awake, Uncle Steve!”

Grace bounced across the room, throwing herself up onto the bed where McGarrett was sitting. Still clothed in his wet pants. Missing his bloody tee. Missing one of his boots too. Steve put his good arm around Grace, and hugged her while giving Danny an apologetic, tender smile. 

There was a doctor tending to Steve’s second bullet wound in as many days, same shoulder. Too funny. Steve was smiling, mostly to himself. Grace bounced a kiss off the new bandage, another off Steve’s cheek, and raced back to her father, who was hyperventilating in the doorway. 

“Hey, Danno,” McGarrett called out. 

There was a dirty, wicked, funny laugh from someone seated in a chair Danny had not yet noticed. 

“ ‘Hey, Danno’? Is that all you have to say for yourself? God, Steven. You are such an ass.” Mary said as she climbed out of the chair, stretched, and came over to the doorway to put an arm around Danny. “Take a breath. Sit down. You’re gonna have a heart attack. You wanna get close enough to punch him in the snout? Because frankly, that was my first reaction too after what went down in the airport.”

“Crybaby,” Steve teased his sister lovingly.

“Steve, I’ve got skid marks on my ass, and bruises everywhere!” Mary hollered at Steve as she helped Danny sit down on the bed. 

“Thanks,” Danny breathed. Grace bounced around joyfully. 

“Danno! I saw you on the news! It was the coolest thing ever!” Danny's daughter exclaimed. 

McGarrett’s grin got a touch wider. 

“Can I go cliff-diving with Uncle Steve next weekend when I come to visit?” Grace pleaded. “Please, please, please!” 

“Over my dead body,” Danny ground out the words, keeping his anger in check. Grace blinked in surprise, her happy smile crumbling. 

“Hooyah?” Steve offered quietly, nervously. His playful smile crumbled too in the face of the absolute fury on Danny’s bruised features. Steve dropped his chin to his chest, and gave Danny a timid look through those long, beautiful lashes. 

“There’s no need to be so grumpy, Danno,” Grace pouted. 

“Could you give us a couple minutes?” Danny whispered. 

The hospital room cleared faster than if someone had yelled “Fire!” Mary pulled Grace into the hallway, in spite of her sputtering protests. The doctor walked out shaking her head and biting back laughter. The door closed tight. Mary’s big grin was in the tiny window. Then Rachel’s disapproving frown appeared. 

“Pelletier survived the fall,” Steve offered. “She’s handcuffed to a bed down the hall, under full custody, recovering from a gunshot wound and a broken leg.”

“Glad to hear it,” Danny whispered. “Steven?” 

“Yes, Danno?” 

“That is without a doubt the most reckless, dangerous, idiotic thing you have ever done, in the entire time I’ve known you.” 

“Nah,” Steve winced as he shrugged his big shoulders. “I dunno. Are you sure? I mean when compared to some of the shit I’ve pulled, how does cliff-diving rank top spot?” 

“Steven, hush.”

“Reckless? Idiotic? Dangerous? Nah.”

“I said hush.” 

“Yes, Danno.”

Danny tilted his head, and darted his eyes at the tiny window in the door. It was filled with a million eyes, and tufts of hair, and at least one pearly smile. Steve timidly slid one set of long fingers onto Danny’s nearest hand. Williams automatically squeezed that hand in reply. 

“It was fuck-all-sexy too. I ain’t gonna lie,” Danny whispered in spite of himself. 

Steve’s cocky grin returned. 

“Really?” McGarrett beamed. 

“Look at me. I’m shaking like a frightened Chihuahua. I’m wearing a backless hospital gown, and a space boot. I feel like a mule kicked my chest in. You haven’t got a scratch on you, do you?” Danny pressed.

“Bruises as big as neon signs, or so I’m told,” Steve motioned over one shoulder. 

“Were you soaking wet before or after we hit the water?” 

“Before, definitely before,” Steve chuckled. “Admit it, Danno. You kinda liked it.”

“Liked it?” Danny bristled. 

“It was fun. You know it was.”

“It wasn’t fun, Steven. It was terrifying.”

“Terrifying can be very fun.” 

Danny glared.

“It was reckless, macho, and stupid.”

“And sexy?” Steve tested.

“Sexy. Very sexy. So sexy, in fact, that I think I might be pregnant.” 

McGarrett’s loud bark of laughter echoed for days. He was holding his ribs, wincing, and laughing until he was crying. 

“You won’t be laughing a few weeks from now, when I shoot out a litter of baby SEALs,” Danny added. He got to his feet and patted Steve’s shoulder, dropping a kiss on top of his head. “You, you maniac, you are without a doubt the craziest person I have ever known.”

“In a good way?” Steve hoped. 

“No. Like I’ve told you before. In the worst possible way,” Danny reassured gently, without venom. “But the next time a psychopath kicks me over a cliff, rest assured, you will be the first person I call.”

“I keep telling you, I’ve got skills,” Steve promised. “Some of which you have never, ever seen.” 

“And God willing, I never will,” Danny prayed on his way to the door. 

“Hey, Danno?” Steve called out. 

“What?” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, you maniac. Now quit staring at my ass. There are people watching us.”

Steve was laughing again when Danny opened and closed the door. 

“Move along, people. Nothing to see here,” Williams barked on his way back to his hospital room.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a big "tip of the hat" to the Aliens universe. Many of the minor military characters and ships' crews, as well as the names of salvage and recovery ships, come from the Aliens movie. Originally it was going to be a sunken pirate ship. However......


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